


What's Left Of Me: Not All Is Lost

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Minor Character Death, Post War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-01
Updated: 2006-09-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 19:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: The war is over but 2 years later, they were still battling the scars. For Ron, every single day is a battle with himself. For Hermione, it was a struggle to show him that he didn't have to face it alone. Angsty Ron *not a song fic, lol*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Ron turned the tap water on and the clear water that gushed through was instantaneous. He turned to face his friend Hermione, who was already grinning at him. "I think it's safe to say that it's working again." 

 

"You're really good at all these repairing spells Ron," Hermione commended. "I don't know what I'd do without you. This apartment is falling apart." 

 

"You'll probably have to call Mr. Attenbrough to look at it." Ron replied, referring to the wizard who owned what Muggles would refer to as a plumber shop. 

 

"And that would be costly." Hermione smiled. "I'd much rather pay a friend who doesn't overcharge me in the first place." 

 

Ron shook his head. "A cup of tea would be enough, I'm quite thirsty." 

 

Hermione frowned. "That wouldn't be enough. What about a dinner?" 

 

Ron bit his lip, unsure of what to say. Noticing his uncertainty, Hermione added, "I'll make a huge dinner for everyone at the Burrow, how's that? You can ask Fred and George to drop by and it's been awhile since I see Harry and Ginny." 

 

Ron smirked. "And you'll be cooking for us?" 

 

"For your information Ron, I've gotten rather good at cooking some decent dishes since I've been living on my own." And as if to prove this, Hermione magically poured him a cup of hot tea. 

 

Ron sat facing her at the small dining table and took a sip of the tea. Hermione studied her friend while he wasn't looking. Even though Ron looked healthy and normal by appearance, there were small tell tale signs of sleepless nights in the form of heavy  bags under the eye and how his shoulders would hunch when he wasn't busy doing one thing or other. And no matter the amount of grins or smiles he put on, his eyes had always been a dead giveaway: Ron Weasley was tired. 

 

"Well?" 

 

He nodded as he put the cup down. "I think it's a good idea. It's been awhile since the kitchen smelt of any real cooked food." 

 

Hermione forced a smile. Ever since the war ended two years ago, she had tried everything to get Ron to open up to her but to no success. He would decline her friendly offer of a night out after work or even her small offers  to help him  degnome the garden. But the one thing Hermione missed most was his laughter. Ron hardly ever laughed anymore. 

 

"Great, then it's settled. Can we send an owl to Harry and Ginny now?" 

 

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, sure." 

 

"Let me get the parchment and quill." She thought she saw an amused smile but Hermione was too excited to take a second look. Ron had never been this easy to  persuade into something and for some odd reason, she felt if she  took even a second for self-doubt, that Ron would turn around and cancel everything. 

 

Entering her small bedroom, she grabbed a blank parchment laying on her desk and her favorite self-ink quill. It was a present from Ron during what would be their seventh year if they hadn't skipped it altogether to go Horcrux hunting with Harry. 

 

A framed picture  which sat on her desk caught her attention. It was of Harry, Ginny, Ron and herself at Bill and Fleur's wedding. They were all dressed up for the occasion and even with Dumbledore's death still fresh on their minds, they had put all grieving aside to celebrate the special occasion. Even Harry and Ginny were suspiciously close; the fact that Harry had broken things off with Ginny didn't seem to matter to the both of them. 

 

And then there was Ron and herself. They had their arms around each other's waists, huge smiles on their faces. Only the night before, they had found the opportunity to slip through the chaos that was the Burrow and talked things through by the lake. She remembered being in the kitchen, crying her eyes out from peeling too many onions as Mrs. Weasley and Ginny fussed about the dishes they'd be serving after the wedding; when Ron came in and whispered in her ears to come follow him. Both Weasley women were too busy discussing about the choice of soup that they  barely missed her  when she disappeared. 

 

By the lake, Ron had let everything out. What surprised her most was that, there was not a hint of the famous Weasley blushed cheeks when he told her he needed to make things right. 

 

_"I feel so grown up all of a sudden, weird that."_

_"I think I know what you're feeling. I feel really old." She said almost in a whisper. The lake looked calm and undisturbed and she took comfort in that. "I don't feel seventeen."_

_"Nothing is certain anymore. All this," Ron said as he waved his hands to refer to their quiet surrounding. " It  may not be here tomorrow."_

_"Are you scared?"_

_Ron took a deep breath and sighed. "Terrified."_

_"Me too."_

_"But the worst thing that could happen is if I...die...and I left things unsaid."_

_"Ron, don't say such things!"_

_"Well that happens in wars doesn't it? People die and who's to say for certain if we'd survive all that?"_

_"I know...but I just can't..."_

_"We have to make sure Harry kills him and if it means sacrificing myself, I'd do it in a heartbeat."_

_"I would too."_

_"I'd rather you not."_

_"Well you don't have any say in that."_

_"I wish I'd married you, and then I'd have my say."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"Well...my mom might be the hot tempered one but she always listen to Dad in the end. I reckon it's 'cause he's the man of the family and all that."_

_"That's such a man thing to say Ron."_

_"That's good to know, 'cause, well... I am one."_

_"I'll have you know that if I ever get married, I'd like to have a say in how things are run in the family."_

_"Sounds like mom. She has the final say in a lot of things."_

_"But she'd listen to your dad as well?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Why do you reckon that is?"_

_"Because I think she knows, at the end of the day, Dad is just looking out for her best interest at heart... And probably because he wouldn't be able to survive looking after us without her. Mom runs the Burrow and always makes sure we're all fed and stuff. Besides, that's what you do if you love someone more than life itself. You'd stand your ground and take all her yelling and screaming if it means she'd relent in the end and you know she'd be out of harm's way."_

_"So...you want me out of harm's way."_

_"If I have my way."_

_"Which you don't."_

_"I know, but I reckon Harry will never find those Horcruxes if we keep you in some hiding place."_

_"Oh really?"_

_"Of course. You're the smart one. Besides, we've gone through all those adventures as a trio, why stop now, right? Strength in numbers, they say."_

_"We'll keep each other alive. We'll have each others' backs."_

_"And still nothing is ever certain, is it?"_

_"Yeah..."_

_"I can't believe I didn't do this sooner, but I guess things are meant to happen the way it happened and for a reason."_

_"Ron, what are you talking about?"_

_"I love you."_

_"I know that, you told me already when I helped fixed that essay of yours, remember?"_

_"I mean, I really, really love you."_

_"Well, I love you too. I hope you know that, because we wouldn't be friends if I-"_

_"I love you the way my Dad loves my mom."_

 

"Hermione?" Hermione's eyes flew open and she swung around to find Ron standing on her doorway. "Are you out of fresh parchment?" 

 

"What? No, no...I just forgot where I kept them but..." She waved the parchment enthusiastically in front of him. "Found it." 

 

"Ah no, don't tell me you're forgetting things already?" Ron teased. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nice room by the way. I can't help noticing how orange it is." 

 

Hermione blushed. "Totally Harry's fault." 

 

"How so?" 

 

"Harry and Ginny wanted to help out when I first moved in and I told them they can chose one thing they'd want to do and have total say in it and Harry chose to paint my bedroom. And I have no say in what color it'd be either." 

 

Ron nodded. "And what did Ginny do?" 

 

"She gave me a knitted throw for my sofa." 

 

Ron moved into the living room and for the first time saw the throw draped lazily on the sofa. It was maroon and it reminded him so much of his mother. 

 

"Ginny wanted for me to have something that'd remind me of the Burrow." Hermione said, almost in a whisper. Ron turned to look at her and for a second, Hermione thought she saw a glint of blinked tears in his eyes. 

 

"I'm sorry I wasn't around to help you move in." 

 

Hermione waved it off. "You were busy with more important stuff than helping me move in. Besides, you're always here to help me with the broken pipes and what not." 

 

Ron smiled, because that was what Ron would do when he had nothing to say. It happened quite a lot these days. Ron just smiled through conversations rather than say what was on his mind. As he walked back to the dining room, Hermione noticed the slight limping. It tore her heart knowing what exactly had caused it. 

 

"This won't be long; can I get you another cup of tea?" 

 

"No, no, you sit down and write that letter, I'll get my own tea." 

 

Hermione knew not to make a big fuss over it, so she sat down and started writing. 

 

_Dear Harry & Ginny, _

_You're required at the Burrow this Friday for dinner. I'll be cooking, not Ron, I'm not sure if that's a good thing but I assure you no food poisoning will be involved. And yes, it'd be a full course dinner, not sandwiches and tea, if you're wondering._

_And don't worry, this is not a trick. I owe Ron a favor because he fixed my broken pipe...again._

_Yours,_

_Hermione_

 

When Hermione looked up again, Ron had two cups of tea in his hand and he pushed one to her. "I'm heading to St. Mungo's soon to bring dad home, his check up should be done by then. Are you heading to work soon?" 

 

"Actually I'm heading there myself." Hermione replied as she thanked him for the tea with a smile. "I have an appointment with the Head Mediwitch about some financial issues one of the families under my care has." 

 

Hermione worked for the Ministry of Magic, and headed the new department for Wizarding Family Welfare. After the war, the Wizarding world was in ruins. Thousands were left homeless and buildings were in ruins. It was an ongoing project to rebuild the Wizarding world and re-housing homeless Wizarding families. Hermione's job was to make sure that each and every family was taken care of and none were left to defend for themselves. 

 

"Well, we can go together then." Ron offered. 

 

It took a lot in her not to grin widely. She had to pretend as if such an invitation from Ron was normal when in fact, Ron hardly ever invited anyone to go anywhere with him. The only person he seemed to still give a little leeway was Harry, and even that had been far and between. 

 

"Of course. Let me just get my things and then we can Apparate there together." 

 

Ron nodded and Hermione made for her room once more. Grabbing her file, cloak and wand and checking her appearance in the mirror quickly, she headed back to the kitchen, where Ron was now busy scribbling away on the letter that Hermione had written for Harry and Ginny. 

 

"Hope you don't mind, I added a little something in there." 

 

"Of course not." Hermione smiled. "Can I read it?" 

 

"It's no secret 'Mione." 

 

Hermione almost forgot how to breathe again. ‘Mione was Ron's way of showing his endearment to her, and often done when there were no one else around. Ron was far from a romantic. He never called her ‘love' or ‘sweetheart' or ‘baby' and the one time he had heard Harry call Ginny ‘babe', he had smacked him on the upper part of the head and said, "‘my sister has a name and it's not ‘babe'". Ginny had told her brother to lay off and that she loved being called ‘babe' by her boyfriend. 

 

The last time Ron had called her Mione, was, amazingly enough, during the final battle. There were a lot of uncertainties back then, but at least then she had known that he was her boyfriend. She wasn't sure what Ron was to her these days. Or what she was to him anymore.

_"If we get separated, I'll come back for you."_

_And he came back, right when she needed him the most._

_She had found herself standing back to back with Ginny, being rounded by a group of Death Eaters that had Apparated out of nowhere. Being outnumbered, she remembered yelling at Ginny that it wasn't the time to hold back, that they should do anything within their ability to get rid of them all. And they had fought like there was no tomorrow to look forward to. Curses and spells flew in all directions and Hermione thought they had it under control._

_And then Ron came out of nowhere, yelling for her. "Hermione get down!"_

_Next thing she knew, she was on the ground, and Ron was in her place . The Death Eater had thrown a cutting curse and it had hit his left side. Hermione threw a stunner at the Death Eater and was just in time to catch Ron's fall._

_Harry had come, along with Charlie and George to help Ginny fight the remaining Death Eaters. By then, Hermione couldn't care less what was going on around them. The cut was deep and within seconds, there was a pool of blood where Hermione had lain him down. She tried every spell she had learnt to stop the bleeding but nothing seemed to work._

_"Why isn't it working!" She cried to herself, frustration setting in. She took off her cloak and started dabbing at the open wound but when it began to soak through, Hermione knew it wasn't enough._

_"Hermione..."_

_"I can do this! I know the spells!" Hermione said as she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. She had used all the spells she knew hadn't she? Surely she had memorized all of them._

_"Mione, look at me."_

 

"Is my handwriting that bad?" 

 

She blinked and then looked up to meet his gaze. "What?" 

 

"You've been staring at the letter for awhile now and I know I just wrote one line." 

 

"Oh." 

 

_Ps: If she burns the kitchen, will you guys take me in?_

 

"Oh, that's rich Ronald." Hermione said rolling her eyes. She rolled the parchment quickly and called for Rouge, an owl that was given to her by the MOM and which she had spent hours trying to find the perfect name. Once she had given the owl the instructions, it flew out of her kitchen window. With her back now facing Ron, she let herself give a well-deserved smile. Ron had made a joke! Could it really mean he was slowly trying to let them in? 

 

"I was thinking, maybe instead of apparating, we could walk there instead?" 

 

This took Hermione by surprise. Did he really say that? "Well...are you sure?" 

 

"Not all the way obviously. There's a new Bed & Breakfast opened a couple of blocks down, they have a fireplace that allow us to floo straight to St. Mungo's. But if you're already running late for the meeting, we can just Apparate from here, it's no big deal." 

 

"Oh no, my appointment wasn't for another hour. I wanted to go in early to see Neville and Luna. I got an owl from Neville a few days ago; he said he had some kind of breakthrough that he wanted me to see. I'm not too sure what that's all about but I'm kind of curious now." 

 

Ron nodded and smiled. "Neville is doing a lot of good for himself and everyone else for that matter. Is it true he's seeing Luna now?" 

 

Hermione grinned. "Looks like it. I didn't out right ask them." 

 

"Well then, shall we?" 

 

-

 

It was almost noon when they stepped out of her apartment and into the busy streets of Hogsmeade. The wizarding town wasn't as colorful as it used to be before the war, but it was slowly gaining back its color. 

 

Hermione had always wanted to live in Hogsmeade, her desire for this went back as far as her third year at Hogwarts, when they had been allowed to go for Hogsmeade weekends. She could still vividly remember her first trip there. They had gone together, hadn't they? She had seen a different side of Ron on that trip, a side that pleased her very much. 

 

_It was her first trip to Honeydukes. Being a daughter of dentists, Hermione was barely exposed to the world of candies. Most of the candies she had tasted had been the sugarless types and Hermione had never complained about it seeing how there was a perfectly logical reason why she was taught candies are bad for her teeth._

 

_"So, what do you want?"_

 

_"I'm not sure if I want anything," She said, shrugging. "Can we go to Flourish & Blotts after this? I want to buy some new parchments." _

 

_"Okay, but only if you let me buy you a candy."_

 

_"What is it with you and candies?"_

 

_"They're not like Muggle's sweets Hermione. Trust me, you'll love them!"_

 

_"Okay fine. As long as they don't taste like ear wax, I've heard of those Every Flavored Beans."_

 

_He smiled and went searching for that candy. Hermione followed him through the crowd, unsure if she should just wait by the side. The store was busting with students, everyone trying to stock up on their candy to bring back to school._

 

_Ron kept moving from one candy to another, constantly shaking his head and mumbling ‘nope'. Hermione didn't realize it was that difficult to pick just one._

 

_"What's wrong with that one?" Hermione asked out of boredom and then read the label. "Five ever changing fruit flavors lollipop. That's nice enough."_

 

_"Well, yeah...but...it's not good enough." Ron smiled sheepishly and then urged her to move forward._

 

_"Well then, what is good enough Ronald? We've been here for awhile now."_

_Ron remained quiet and looked through every candy bottle on display. Hermione decided if she was ever going to get out of here, she should try harder to help quicken the search. It didn't take long for it to dawn on her while they were silently walking next to each other, passing yet another type of candy, that all the candies Ron had reached out for, had quite the hefty price tag._

_"Oh."_

_"What was that?" Ron asked absentmindedly._

_"Nothing." Hermione sputtered. "Um, Ron, I know this is supposed to be your choice and all, but I think this place really makes me want to have a taste of cotton candy, do they have those here?"_

_Ron's eyes immediately widen. "Of course they do! They're one of the common ones though, nothing really, um, magical about them."_

_"That's okay, I think I should start slow." Hermione assured him with a smile. "After that, you can show me all the ones that you and Harry like, he gave me some money to get him something from Honeyduke."_

_"He did?"_

_"Yup. I almost forgot about it, but he wanted to ask you to buy it for him since you're obviously an expert in the candy business, but you were busy being tormented by the twins before." Hermione lied. She didn't know she had it in her._

_"That's great! We should get him those chocolate frogs, he's just starting his collector's cards..."_

 

"It's just so wrong not to have Honeydukes in Hogsmeade." 

 

Ron took a deep breath and smiled. "I can still smell all the sweets and the chocolates." 

 

"I missed the thousands of colors." Hermione reminisced. "We need more color here." 

 

"I'm sure we'll get it all back someday." Ron assured her as they walked farther down the road. There were building constructions going around and small shop houses that were already up, were now busting with activities. 

 

"Mr. Weasley, is that really you?" Hermione turned, much faster than Ron, and found an elderly woman with a young boy about nine smiling at them. 

 

"Hello Mrs. Lynch," Ron greeted the woman and reached out to ruffle the boy's blonde hair. The kid seemed to know him too, and giggled. "I see you're out for a bit of shopping." 

 

"It's Kyle's birthday tomorrow and I thought a little bit of celebration should be about right. The kids could do with a little bit of party around here." 

 

"That sounds lovely." Hermione offered. "How old are you going to be Kyle?" 

 

"I'll be ten! Just one more year and I'll be going to Hogwarts!" 

 

Both Hermione and Ron laughed. "Yeah, I reckon Hogwarts will be open by then." 

 

"Well, we best be going now." Mrs. Lynch said. "I just wanted to say hello. You've been a great help with fixing those pipes. That little pipe ring you attached really helped, I had no leaking ever since and the simple spell is handy for this old lady to remember." 

 

"That's good to hear, I'm glad it helped." 

 

"You should really consider selling them; Merlin knows we need those little miracles." She smiled. "Just like you Ms. Granger." 

 

Hermione was taken by surprise. This woman knew her name? 

 

"Oh don't look so surprised Miss. Everybody knows who Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley are. Harry Potter isn't the only hero in the last war; he has heroes for friends as well. And what you're doing for the welfare of us normal Wizarding folks didn't go unappreciated. If it wasn't for your department, I'd still be jobless and caring for my grandson. It was tough after his parents died in the war, did you know, I almost gave him up for adoption? I don't know what I'd do if I had given Kyle away. My son would be terribly ashamed of me if he had been alive." 

 

By instincts, Hermione reached out for the older woman and they embraced in a hug as she wept on her shoulder. "Don't worry Mrs. Lynch, if there ever is a problem, do find me, or Ron, we can help you and Kyle." 

 

"That's good to know." The older woman smiled, wiping her tears away. "Thank you so much, both of you. Please, don't let me hinder your walk any further; we still have a little bit of shopping to do ourselves." 

 

After they bid the old lady and her grandson goodbye, Hermione and Ron continued their walk in silence. It didn't feel awkward though, at least not for Hermione. They constantly waved or exchanged pleasantries to familiar faces they saw walking by, both entertaining to their own thoughts. 

 

For Hermione, her mind was on Ron Weasley. They might be walking next to each other, their arms constantly brushing against each other, but she hardly knew him. It tugged at her heart that she had no idea what Ron's day to day activities was like. She really missed her Ron. And she wanted to get to know the Ron who was standing next to her now. The one who seemed so set on shutting himself off from everyone else. Even from her. 

 

She stole a glance at him, wanting to really look at his profile without him knowing. Instead, she found him slightly frowning, and his shoulders hunched over a little. Her gaze dropped to his arm, which looked as if he was holding on to his abdomen. His pace had slowed a little too. 

 

"Ron..." 

 

"There's a clearing up ahead, just a little bit from here." Ron cut in. He might have sounded calm but Hermione couldn't help noticing the little grimace on his face as they trudged along. "Do you mind if we take a little break? The Bed & Breakfast would be another ten minutes from there." 

 

"Of course not. That'd be nice actually, it's been awhile since I let myself take some time and appreciate the beauty that we still have left." 

 

Ron smirked. "Well then Miss Granger, isn't today your lucky day?" 

 

She smiled and bravely draped her arm around his waist. She was careful not to touch that sensitive area that was now hurting him. When Ron didn't show any signs of protest, she bit back the urge to do a happy dance. 

 

_The war was over but it didn't feel like they had won. Everywhere she turned, buildings were in ruins, bodies were still scattered around. Those who were strong enough to lift a finger, were doing everything they could to carry the fallen to the mortuary. Aurors were patrolling the streets, the first batch of authorities assigned to ensure some kind of law was in order. Riots were breaking out in different areas. Hunger and desperation led the homeless to rob one another just to survive another day._

_Hermione entered St. Mungo's early morning and the scene that greeted her didn't seem to be any different than the day before. Everyone seemed to be rushing somewhere. Distant screaming of someone in pain could be heard. Someone's mother, sister, daughter or wife was crying alone outside a closed ward. Mediwitches with dried blood stains on their uniform were rushing from one room to another._

_She walked pass them all in a daze, already memorizing her intended destination by heart. It was a routine to her._

_Ron's ward was right at the end of the third floor. It was a secluded area reserved for the critically injured._

_There were four beds occupied when Hermione was there the night before. Now there were three occupants left. She quickened her pace, not wanting to find out what happened to the young wizard whom had occupied the empty bed the night before._

_Ron's bed was currently hidden behind closed curtains. Hermione could hear Harry's voice, almost in a whisper, talking to Ron. She paused, unsure if she should intrude on them; but something Harry said then made her decide to wait for a little while more before making her appearance known._

_"Ron, I really think I should get Nurse Caroline to do this."_

_"No Harry please, you can do this for me."_

_"I might hurt you! I don't know what I'm doing Ron."_

_"I'm always hurting Harry, what are you talking about?"_

_"It's not funny."_

_"No it's not. But I don't think I can stand seeing myself cry like a baby in front of a nurse again. You have to do this for me."_

_"Maybe we should wait for Hermione? I think she's better at this than I am."_

_"Harry please. She had been crying her eyes out every time she came to visit me. I don't want her to see this."_

_"She's been crying?"_

_"When she thought I was asleep. Anyway, I thought she really needed to let it all out since she's always trying to show everyone she's handling it well."_

_"Okay fine...I'll do this. Er...I think I should help you sit up."_

_"Yeah, seeing how you're supposed to bind the bandage around my waist and all."_

_"You don't make fun of the person who's trying to help you."_

_"Jeez Harry, lighten up."_

_Curiosity won her over and ever so stealth, she took a little peek inside._

_Ron was sitting up on his bed, topless, his hospital gown pulled down to his waist. His pale right arm resting on Harry's shoulder while Harry was hunched over, working on cutting the old bandage._

_"Right, what do I do now?"_

_"Undo the binding spell first."_

_"But...but you'll bleed!"_

_"And that's a good thing for a bit...prevent blood clot and what not....at least that's what Caroline keeps telling me."_

_"Ok, ok, fine."_

_Harry muttered the counter spell and Hermione bit her lower lip when Ron let out a strangled gasp._

_"Oh Godric, is it suppose to bleed that much?"_

__  
  


_Ron nodded his reply._

_From where Hermione was standing, it looked like Harry was dabbing at the wound._

_"Ron...it's STILL bleeding! What am I doing wrong here?"_

_"It never stops bleeding...that's the bleeding curse I got hit with, gosh Harry you have to calm down or I'll really bleed to death."_

_"Right, right...okay...so...what's next?"_

_"Take a handful of that salve and start kneading it in your palm until it gets really warm."_

_"What? Why didn't you tell me to do that first! You're going to bleed to death while I'm...kneading this thing!"_

_"Well excuse me Harry, but unless they find a new spell of some sort to undo this curse, I'm going to have to live with this, aren't I? And one of these days mate, I'm going to have to go home and do this on my own twice a day and I will be bleeding while I knead that salve myself. Now if you can't do that for me, I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to do it myself!"_

_There was a stretch of silence as Harry kneaded the salve. The flex of muscles on Ron's arm told Hermione that he was struggling to hold on to Harry. She debated for a while, wondering if she should just come out clean and helped them both. But Ron was a Weasley. His pride would take it as an insult. If they came off too eager, Ron would just push them away. He was already beginning to do that to most of them and if keeping herself hidden meant that he would at least open up to Harry, she would do exactly that._

_"Harry..."_

_"Just awhile more Ron, hang on."_

 

"I call this bench our time out spot every time I send Dad for his check ups." 

 

Hermione smiled and sat down as Ron took a firm grip of the armrest before lowering himself down. "It's lovely Ron, nothing but wide open space. It's peaceful." 

 

Indeed it was.  Away from the busy streets of Hogsmeade, the stretch of land ahead of them was now covered in healthy green grass. Ahead of them, a new building sat still and proud. Hermione assumed that was the Bed & Breakfast Ron was talking about.

 

"There used to be houses here though, before the war." Ron continued. "I think once the soil is firm enough, they might just rebuild them." 

 

"So, you walk all the way here and then floo from the Bed & Breakfast all the time?" 

 

"Most of the time, when Dad was strong enough to handle it. We'd walk through Hogsmeade, that's how I got to know most of the families living around there. They like to stop and talk to my dad and share their problems. That's how I got to assist people like Mrs. Lynch anyway. And I figured it'd be healthy for Dad to...go out." 

 

"What was that ring thing she talked about earlier? For the pipes?" 

 

"Ah...it's just a ring to sort of alert you if the pipe was going to burst. You just have to tap it once and say ‘fix' and it'll fix the problem before it burst." 

 

Hermione smiled. "That's brilliant Ron! I know I said you're really good at these repairing spells but wow, you're more than just good." 

 

Ron shrugged, a tinge of blush now creeping up to his face and ears. "It's nothing big, really. You know how Dad loves his Muggle artifacts. I figured if I could put his mind into working on something with me at home, he'd get distracted from thinking about..." 

 

Ron waved his hands lazily and then sighed before looking at her. "So what about you Hermione? What have you been up to lately?" 

 

"Work." She laughed. "I guess that's my distraction day in day out. It gets easier when you know you're out there helping someone else's life a little bit better." 

 

He nodded. "You're doing a great job Mione. I've read a lot about your team's work in the Quibbler."

 

"You know if you allow yourself some downtime and hang out with me, you could find that out straight from the source." 

 

Ron smiled but offered no reply and this upset her a little. Was he no longer interested in her? What about that promise they made before the war? She had never brought the subject up out of respect, but Ron seemed quite content on not touching about the matter himself. 

 

There was the sound of something flapping in the air and before Hermione knew it, Hedwig had landed on her lap with a tiny scroll of parchment tied on her leg. 

 

"Hey there buddy."  Hermione greeted Hedwig with a smile. "I'm sorry there's no food for you right now." 

 

"Wait just a minute." Ron interrupted. He shoved his hand deep inside the pocket of his jeans and pulled out something tiny wrapped in red. 

 

Hermione laughed. "You're going to give her a chocolate?" 

 

"Hedwig loves chocolate!" Ron said defensively as he unwrapped the candy and held his palm out to the owl. Hedwig snapped it up in a second. "She used to eat all of our stash back in Hogwarts." 

 

"You mean both you and Harry used to train her to eat one?" 

 

Ron shrugged but couldn't help the tiny smile he let escape his lips. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

 

Hermione shook her head and laughed while unrolling the little message. "It's from our two favorite Aurors." 

 

"Well go on, read it." 

 

"Dear Ron and Hermione," Hermione paused. How nice that sounded to her. Ron and Hermione...she missed that. "We would be delighted to take up on the offer. It had been awhile since we ate real food considering Ginny would rather prefer to place a hex on things than cook them. We will be there with a bottle of firewhisky for good measure." 

 

Ron laughed and Hermione closed her eyes, cherishing this moment. 

 

"Is that it?" Ron asked. 

 

Hermione shook her head and continued. "P.S. The couch is on stand by for you in case of a fire big brother." 

 

Ron laughed again, clutching at his side as he did so and Hermione was too happy to hear the very sound that she had missed for too long to even utter a quick comeback. Perhaps not all was lost.


	2. The Cure

  
Author's notes: The war is over but 2 years later, they were still battling the scars. For Ron, every single day is a battle with himself. For Hermione, it was a struggle to show him that he didn't have to face it alone. Angsty Ron *not a song fic, lol*  


* * *

By the time they flooed into St. Mungo’s, Hermione couldn’t pretend nothing was wrong. There was a fine line between trying not to suffocate him with her concerns and appearing as if she didn’t give a damn and she definitely didn’t want Ron to think that she didn’t care.

“Ron, forgive me for saying this, but as we’re already here, perhaps you’d let Neville take a look at your wound?”

Ron was about to say something in return when Hermione cut him. “It’s not that I think you don’t have it under control, but that was a long walk and flooing is dizzying and you look pale-”

“Hermione,” Ron cut in, surprising her when she noticed the smirk on his face. “I am meeting Neville before I get my dad.”

“You…what?”

“He Owled me a few days ago and asked if he could see me today. He didn’t say anything about a possible cure but he made it clear it was about my wound.”

“So…you knew I was going to meet him today?”

Ron shook his head. “No, I didn’t. He said nothing about you being there. I’m not really sure if he wants to meet us about the same thing.”

Hermione nodded, taking this new information in. “Ok, let’s go.”

Neville was in his makeshift office — a place where wizards and witches training to be doctors would go to finish their reports or to have a break. His face was set in a frown as he studied a report on his desk as they peered in. His frown quickly turned into a smile as he beckoned them in.

“I wasn’t expecting both of you to arrive together, but this is a pleasant surprise.”

“Ron came by earlier to fix my broken tap,” Hermione explained. “I just found out you were looking for him as well. Is it about the same matter you wanted to see me?”

Neville nodded while showing them both to their seats. “Yes, actually it is. You see, Luna and I have been working on some spells and potions to stop internal bleeding and more advance spell on healing open wounds…and it was just by chance really…we think we found a balance of both spell and potion to stop the bleeding altogether.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide open. “Neville…that’s…”

“Brilliant.” Ron smiled.

Neville blushed, and for a second, Hermione was reminded of the shy, soft-spoken young man she knew from Hogwarts.

“It won’t break the curse, mind, but it…improves…the...er, condition.”

“Has it been tested yet Neville?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, but on small wounds,” Neville replied. “It hasn’t been tested on fatal ones.”

“So…you we were wondering if you could use it on Ron?”

“If he agrees to it.”

“And you asked me here because…”

“Well, you are the brightest witch of our year in Hogwarts Hermione. Luna and I thought it couldn’t hurt to hear your opinion about it first.”

“What do you think Hermione?” Ron asked, looking at her with a pained expression on his face.

She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Well, first of all, I think it’s wise that you take a look at the wound and see if it needs changing. I think Ron might have exerted himself too much from the walk.”

“Oh, of course, no problem! I might need your assistance though; it’ll make the process faster and less painful for Ron.”

Hermione nodded. “Of course, I’ll help.”

“Right,” Neville said as he looked at Ron. “You need to take off your clothes so it won’t get messy later. There’re some spare hospital jumpers in the changing room for you.”

“‘K thanks.” Ron got up from his seat and made his way to the changing room. Hermione noticed the difficulty he was having just to walk the small distance and wondered if he would be all right in there alone.

“He’ll be fine Hermione; he’s been in a lot worst condition than this.” Neville told her, as if he had read her mind.

“Oh?”

Neville nodded. “About two weeks ago, he came to fetch Mr. Weasley and almost collapsed in front of Luna. From what Mr. Weasley told her, Ron had overworked himself at the Burrow.”

Hermione felt her throat constrict. What wouldn’t she give to just run to Ron and give him a hug and let him know he didn’t have to go through it alone. “About this new…cure - how does it exactly work?”

“Well you see, Ron will have to take two potions for the course of two weeks, which by then, should successfully stop the bleeding altogether. What we couldn’t fix is the wound itself, it will remain as fresh as the day the curse was inflicted on him.”

Hermione nodded, taking everything in. “What about the spell?”

“Right. After two weeks, he can stop taking one of the potions and continue with the remaining potion, which is to help prevent and cure the infections that usually come with open wounds. And then with a more advanced spell than the one he is currently using to slow down the irreversible curse, Ron can bind the open wound without the use of the hot salve, which means, less pain for Ron.”

Hermione liked this new alternative even more now. Sure even though they couldn’t find the right spell to undo the curse (yet anyway), but this new approach would make his life much easier.

“So…all he needs is to take that potion and cast the spell and he’s done? And no more bleeding after the first two weeks?”

Neville grinned. “Yes! He still has to use the muggle bandage though, so as not to expose the open wound and to prevent further accidents. And the best part is, after the first two weeks, Ron only has to take the remaining potion once a week and renew the spell once every three days.”

Hermione was beaming. She could tell both Neville and Luna were going to be St. Mungo’s greatest assets if they weren’t already.

“We’ve permission from the Head of St. Mungo’s herself, to try it out, we just need to find a willing participant.”

“Oh Neville, I’m quite sure Ron will do it! He’s also at the perfect age to try it out. He’s still young and strong.”

“Well, right now he isn’t, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Hermione turned to find Ron barefoot and topless, with only a hospital jumper to cover the lower half of his body. The bandage was the only thing now covering the wound. He also looked like he was about to collapse.

“Here Ron, just hold on to this and we’ll work quickly to fix that.” Neville said as he showed Ron the railing bar that was mounted on the wall. It reminded Hermione of those side bars Ballerinas use to hold on to as they do their warm ups.

Neville disappeared behind yet another door and came back pushing a cart containing some first aid materials along with the infamous pot of salve.

She looked on as Neville proceeded to cut the bandage and discard the material and then muttered a spell that would undo the binding spell. The wound burst open and Ron began to bleed heavily.

Hermione gulped. Is this what Ron had to go through twice a day? And suppose he had overworked himself, like today, and could barely stand up, how had he managed to do all this on his own?

The blood was now soaking the hospital jumper and Hermione couldn’t help but notice how red it was against his pale skin. The strong smell of iron invaded her nostrils, making her dizzy. All these felt familiar…

“Hermione.”

She shook her head and looked up to meet his gaze. Despite the obvious pain he was in, Ron was smiling at her.

“Mione, look at me.”

_“Calm down and breathe.”_

_“Ron you’re bleeding and none of the spells they taught us are working!”_

_Ron nodded his head lightly and struggled to find his voice and the panic button in Hermione’s head was pushed again._

_“Ron-”_

_“I’m not going to die, so relax.” Ron gasped. “Don’t panic…and you’ll figure it…out.”_

_“But-”_

_“ I’m not done yet. You have to …fix me …so we can… stand by Harry… when Voldemort shows up.”_

_Hermione inhaled sharply. She can do this; she knew it! “Okay, I can do the binding spell, it won’t heal or stop the bleeding but it should slower down the process while I figure things out.”_

_“Such a…brilliant…witch.”_

“I’ve been through this for the last two years, twice a day, everyday. Trust me, I’m not going to drop and die any second now.”

Hermione forced a smile and nodded her head, willing for the bad memories to go away. She shouldn’t panic, Ron needed her help and that was saying a lot. When was the last time Ron had said yes to anything she had to offer?

With new resolutions, she turned to Neville. “Okay, what do I do?”

“Start kneading the salve until-”

“It warms, yes, right away.” Hermione blurted out as she reached out for the thick salve and grabbed a handful. She began kneading it and after a few seconds, she started feeling the cold salve becomea little warmer in her palms.

Neville began dabbing at the wound, soaking up the blood and preventing it from soaking the jumper. Hermione couldn’t help stealing a glance when she heard Ron’s breath start coming in gasps and wheezes.

The salve couldn’t warm up fast enough and she was growing impatient. How in the world could Ron knead this thing to warm when surely he barely had any strength left from bleeding?

“Here, put your weight on me.” Neville had shifted to allow Ron to lean against his body a little. Ron was quiet, he looked to be in too much pain.

“Maybe I’m doing this wrong, it’s not warming up fast enough.”

“You’re doing great Hermione, just a little while now.” Neville assured her.

“This…funny…Hermione doing something…wrong…” Ron teased in his grimace.

Neville laughed. “You’re right there Ron, that’d be funny. Hermione wouldn’t allow herself to do something as simple as kneading wrongly!”

“Oh shut it you two! I think it’s okay now, it’s really warm!”

“Okay good, just put it against the wound, it’ll meld itself against it and evaporate.” Neville instructed.

This was the part Hermione wasn’t sure she could handle. She could still hear Ron crying out in pain that day when she peeked on Harry doing it to Ron. The moment the warm salve hit the open wound, it sizzled and dissolved and Ron had cried on Harry’s shoulder as they waited for the pain to subside.

But the only thing that escaped Ron’s mouth when she slapped the salve against his wound was a low growl. Ron had tears in his eyes but he was smiling at her.

“Well, thanks for fixing me up.”

She was just in time to break his unexpected fall and as Ron’s body lay unconscious on her lap, she was momentarily taken back to the day when she thought she had lost him forever.

_“Ron, I really think you should Apparate to St. Mungo’s right now, you’re not fit to fight!”_

_“I’m fine! Your spell helped a lot Hermione. I’m not going anywhere until we face Voldemort together with Harry.”_

_“But Ron-”_

_“I’m not going to break my promise now; you’d do the same if you were in my shoes and nothing I say will ever convince you otherwise.”_

_“GET DOWN! STUPEFY!”_

_“I owe you one!”_

_“No, we’re even!”_

_“Who’s counting? Expelliarmus!”_

_“Ron, the Dementors are coming this way!”_

_“Ignore them! They’re distractions, Charlie’s sending the dragons to fight them! DIFFINDO!”_

_Hermione tried to ignore the sudden chill that was creeping from her back. She kept muttering hexes and spells to incoming Death Eaters that seemed to just multiply every time she brought one of them down._

_And then she saw it, the dragons looming above them and shooting fire at the Dementors. Never mind happy thoughts, she had a feeling the dragons were out to just maul them into pieces._

_“Lavender, what are you doing!”_

_Her head snapped back to the direction Ron seemed to be yelling at and found Lavender Brown, without her wand, attacking an armed Death Eater._

_“Oh Godric! Ron, go get her!” Ron was already half way there by then and Hermione shouted a jinx at a Death Eater who was aiming his wand at the direction of Ron and Lavender._

_Her worry over Ron’s condition seemed keen to distract her from her concentration and she knew if she didn’t try hard enough, she’d commit a mistake that would endanger all their lives. They promised to have each others’ backs and she wasn’t ready to break that promise._

_She heard Harry yelling out yet another spell towards a Death Eater and it wasn’t until she had gotten rid of the two that were going for her that she ran to assist him. He was battling Bellatrix Lestrange._

_“Harry, you have Voldemort to take care of, let me have this one.”_

_They say war changes a person. That they bring out the bravery and courage in you, it leads you to do things that you probably would never do under normal circumstances. They also said war brings out the humanitarian and the killer instincts in you, all at once. And Hermione saw all these in the form of her friend, Neville Longbottom._

_Both she and Harry had his back, stopping other Death Eaters from coming any farther towards them as Neville battled the woman who had ruined his family. Ironically enough, it was a deflected cruciatus curse from a fellow Death Eater that was meant for Neville that in the end, caused the downfall of Bellatrix Lestrange._

_But there was no time for celebration._

_Ginny, Bill, Fred and George were surrounded by two trolls not far away while Luna Lovegood, Ernie McMillan and a fellow Auror were outnumbered by a group of Death Eaters. Everywhere around them, good was still fighting evil._

_“Harry go ahead and get Ginny out of there. Neville, I’ll help you get Luna!”_

_And so they separated; at the back of her mind, the same question lingered. How was Ron faring?_

_She got her answer in the form of his anguished cry._


	3. Onion Soup and Memories

  
Author's notes: Huge thanks to ootinker for the review :D  


* * *

Beta: NorskHeksen (CM) 

3: Onion Soup and Memories

Hermione was explaining what needed to be done for the day and was getting frustrated when she realized her ex-dorm mate in Hogwarts and now colleague wasn’t giving her fullest attention and appeared to be amused instead.

“Parvati, honestly, are you listening or not?”

“Yes I am, and I don’t know what you’re panicking about, Hermione, because I know these things already, I assist you with each and every one of them all the time.” Parvati smiled as she closed all the case files mounting on her desk. Each file concerned a family under their welfare system.

“I’m sorry, I know you can handle all these, it’s just—”

“I know, I know, you’re Hermione, and worrying is just you by nature,” Parvati teased.

Hermione sighed. “Guilty as charged.”

“You know, I’m more intrigued by the fact that you’re taking this urgent leave today,” Parvati said as she leaned back on her swivel chair. 

“Why is that?” Hermione asked as she raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

“The whole day too.”

Hermione sighed, more from amusement than frustration. “Yes Parvati, what’s the point?” 

“You’ve headed this Department ever since it opened up almost two years ago, Hermione, and you’ve never taken even a half day off!”

“Yes well, there’s always a first to everything,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. 

“Where are you going?” Parvati asked, knowing it would aggravate her friend further. 

“I’m not taking a vacation, Parvati, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I know that, but still, there must be somewhere you need to be for you to take this urgent leave and leave poor me all by myself to handle all these cases.” Parvati pouted. 

“You’re such a pain.”

“But you heart me so.”

Hermione sighed and started tapping on her colleague’s desk. Deciding that she needed to tell _someone_ before her head exploded, she said, “I don’t know what got into me but I promised Ron I’d cook dinner for him and his guests tonight.”

It got the reaction Hermione was expecting from Parvati. “Wow, Ron huh?”

“Yes, Ron.” 

“How did that happen?” Parvati smirked. 

“He fixed my pipe.”

“Again?”

“It’s an old apartment.”

“So, it’s Ron.”

“You seem to have some kind of fixation with his name, is there something you’re not telling me Parvati?” 

“I think you’re confusing me with Lavender.” 

“I thought it was Won-Won?”

“Same difference.”

“I used to tease him about it.”

“Yeah… so, that still doesn’t explain why you have to take leave to cook dinner. Is this a date?”

“No! It’s just that… well… Harry and Ginny are coming and then there’s the twins and of course Mr. Weasley… and I extended, well, blurted out the invitation to Neville and Luna as well and now I’m not sure if I’m good enough to cook for a huge crowd.”

“You’ll do fine, trust me. If all else fails, just call one of those Muggle delivery shops and chuck the boxes before anyone arrives.”

“I’m cooking at the Burrow, so that is out of the question.”

“Wow, the Burrow huh?” 

“Yeah, wow.”

“Well, look at it this way, Hermione. I think reinstating some laughter at the Burrow depends on your culinary skills tonight.”

“And just because of that, I hope someone gives you a hard time today. I’m off to the market.”

“Tell Won-Won I said hi!”

-

Diagon Alley was buzzing with early morning activities. Kids were running around while their parents were busy bargaining with the witches or wizards behind their stalls. Hermione had just came out of a grocery store with both arms loaded with paper bags filled with items she was going to cook for dinner. She couldn’t be thankful enough for the non-tear charm she had learnt back in school; it proved to be useful right then.

“Are you sure you don’t want my Aaron to help you with that, Ms. Granger?”

Hermione looked back and smiled. “It’s quite all right, Mrs. Bateman, I just have one more place to go and then I’ll be Apparating.”

“Well then, do tell me how the éclairs recipe turned out for you, eh?”

“Of course. Thanks again for the tips!”

She bid the old woman farewell with a single nod and started weaving her way through the crowded path. She would have used the levitating charm on the bags if she wasn’t so distracted. She still wasn’t sure if she could pull it off or if being in the kitchen again would distract her too much.

Hermione must have been entertaining her thoughts too much because she really believed her mind was playing tricks on her. Surely that bloke with the slightly wavy, long hair with oil stained white shirt and rather faded, worn out jeans carrying a small toolbox wasn’t Ronald Weasley himself coming out of a Quidditch supply shop!

Hermione thought back; did she ever have a thing for a bloke who knows his tools?

_What in the world am I thinking about?_

She shook her head, as if that very action would chase away whatever drool factor was beginning to set in.

Before she could continue further though, the sexy tool man walked away from the shop and turned. Their eyes met.

_He-lloo. That_ is _Ronald Bilius Weasley; looking so much better than the day before when he had collapsed in my arms._

He smiled, obviously pleasantly surprised to find her there. It was then she noticed the limp, and how it seemed to take a lot of effort for him to just walk that short distance to where she was standing.

He-lloo turned to plain frustration.

“Ron, what are you doing out of bed?” She made sure there was a convincing frown now etched on her face.

He seemed amused. “Well, it’s almost eleven in the morning, Hermione, and like every other normal person, I do wake up and run errands.”

“I know that! But you’re supposed to be resting, Neville said—”

“I did what Neville said. You’d be happy to know I slept the rest of the day yesterday and all through the night like a baby.”

Hermione looked at him doubtfully. “Who was up to check on your dad?” Ron raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Ginny told me before how Mr. Weasley sometimes needs to be calmed at night.”

“George slept over last night,” Ron answered. “Are you going to keep lecturing me or let me carry that for you?”

Hermione’s grasp on the paper bags tightened. “You’re not carrying these. I was going to put levitation charm on them.”

“Fine then, do it now.”

Knowing Ron would never let the subject die, she muttered the charm and released her grasp. Both bags now levitated next to her.

“Are those for the dinner tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Don’t say that. I haven’t even started cooking them!”

Ron shrugged. “You worry too much Hermione. I’m sure they’ll love whatever it is you’re cooking for us. I know I will.”

Hermione smirked. “Well Ron, you love food in general.”

“That I do.” Ron laughed and they started walking. “Are you heading to the Burrow now?”

“Well, I was planning on Apparating there from here since I already have all the ingredients with me.”

“Then aren’t you glad you bumped into me? No one would be around to let you in otherwise. I have some spells up to guard the house when there’s no one in.”

“Where’s your dad?” 

“George brought him to their store; something about testing a new Muggle magic trick,” Ron replied while studying their surroundings. “If you ask me, that’s just the twins’ way of giving me some more rest time... I think it’s safe to Apparate from here.”

“Right.” Hermione nodded and grabbed one of the bags. Ron took the other before she could protest and Apparated right before her eyes. “Ugh, he’ll be the death of me!”

-

Ron was lifting up the spell by the time Hermione Apparated next to him just outside the front door. She didn’t say a word as they entered the living room, choosing to study her surroundings instead. It had been a while since she had last been there.

There was a television in the living room now, probably Ron’s way of entertaining his father. Other than that, everything else seemed to be quite the same. The famous Weasley clock looked a little battered but still working. There were three names added, she noticed. Two of them were Harry and herself. Mrs. Weasley had added them in shortly before they left for the Horcrux hunt. The last was installed a year ago, when Bill and Fleur had their first son, René Percival Weasley.

Currently, it showed Ron and Hermione, Home.

And it felt like home to her.

Ron headed straight to the kitchen, and Hermione figured that was where she should be as well. Ron placed the bag on the square kitchen table and she did the same with the one she was carrying, suddenly feeling a little out of place. The familiar smell of fresh grass out in the backyard and soft rays of sunlight penetrating through the kitchen somewhat calmed her down.

A lot of things had happened in this kitchen.

“Tea?”

Hermione was pulled back from her thoughts and was now staring at his imploring blue eyes. “Yes, please.”

While Ron was busy boiling water, Hermione decided she should start unpacking the ingredients. “So, I heard some wizard was going to start a Quidditch club for the kids, did you sign up? Is that why you were at the Quidditch supply shop?”

He turned to look at her incredulously. “They’re recruiting kids, Hermione; you know, eleven year olds?”

“Your point, Ron?” she smirked.

“Well I’m not eleven now am—” Ron paused, realisation sitting in. Hermione couldn’t hold back the laughter and burst out into giggles. “Ha ha, very funny.”

By the time Hermione was done unpacking, Ron had already set two cups of tea on the dining table and a couple of pieces of toast that he had re-heated with the heating charm. She joined him at the table and took the seat opposite his.

“So, what were you doing at Diagon Alley then?”

“Never back down, do you?” Ron teased.

“You know I never.” She smiled. “This is why you should just answer and shut me up.”

“Repaired some pipe-related problems at that shop,” Ron answered as he passed a piece of toast and urged her to eat. “It’s all I have, but I really think you should have some breakfast in you.”

“Thanks.” Hermione took a bite and thought it was the best piece of toast she had eaten in years. “So they get you to fix it any time of the day?”

Ron nodded as he took a sip of his drink. “Sometimes at night too, but those have been rare.  I enjoyed it, though; it’s a good feeling to help fix something that’s broken. Well, I’m sure you know how that feels, seeing that’s your job.”

Hermione nodded. “It is. Sort of an escape, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Hermione nodded again. “Makes you forget about your own problems and it makes you happy to see that you helped to fix someone else’s life. Funny though, I didn’t think I’d be working with Parvati of all the girls at Hogwarts.”

Ron chuckled. “How is she, by the way?”

“Good. I mean, we do talk about, you know… but most of the time I think she’s like us, putting our energy into our work.”

Ron’s expression noticeably changed a little. There was that flash of sadness Hermione was sure had just crossed her face as well. “Well, I have to start de-gnoming the garden; I didn’t do it yesterday because I was told to rest.”

“We were worried, okay? You passed out! And then I couldn’t wait for you to wake up because I had to be at work, and of course Ginny and Harry were off hexing some leftover Death Eaters somewhere and couldn’t get my owl! Thankfully George was around although I did get smacked on the face by one of their inventions when I arrived by Floo powder there!”

Ron found this to be utterly funny and couldn’t help bursting in laughter. “I miss your panicked self, Hermione.”

_Well I missed you!_ “I’m serious, Ron!”

Ron stopped laughing and nodded his head. “I’m sorry, I know you’re worried, but it’s nothing really, I’ve fainted before.”

“So I’ve been told,” Hermione replied. “But while you were unconscious, there was a group of worried people working on you. I can’t help but worry anyway; I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing you that way.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not your problem.”

“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? I want to make it my problem.” _I know you’re not that thick Ron, you know what I want!_

It looked as if Ron was going to say something but changed his mind. Hermione wished Ron would argue and defend himself; she needed to hear his reasons. Why had he been pushing her away all this time? Didn’t waiting patiently for two years for him to come around say anything about her?

“Are you going to leave and come back later or are you staying?” Ron finally said.

“If you want me to leave just—”

“I didn’t say I want you to leave!”

Hermione sighed. Perhaps getting into an argument wasn’t the best thing to do for now. Perhaps Ron would open up if she didn’t come off too pushy. _Well, waiting in the sideline for two years counts as not pushy, doesn’t it?_

“I’d like to stay if you don’t mind. I need an early start to prepare.”

“I don’t mind at all. The kitchen is all yours, try not to burn it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on her face as she watched him walked out of the kitchen and to the garden. She’d rather he sloth out in front of the television (she was still curious if the Burrow now had electricity or if it was magically run) than strain himself further, but knowing Ron and his stubbornness, she unwillingly held back.

-

_It was a chain reaction that didn’t seem to want to slow down. The moment both Neville and Hermione had managed to stop all the Death Eaters that were attacking the group Luna was with, she heard Ron’s anguished cries._

_Her eyes immediately searched for Harry, hoping that he was within Ron’s reach. She found him supporting Ginny; it looked like Ginny had taken quite a beating in their battle with the trolls. She made a run for them, knowing Neville and Luna were safe._

“ _Harry! I heard Ron screaming! Where is he, Harry?”_

“ _I don’t know… he was…”_

_But Harry’s sentence was cut off by Ron’s cries again and nothing else mattered then. Hermione followed her instinct and made a run for it, knowing both Harry and Ginny were doing the same thing. She thought she heard Ginny pleading for her brother’s safety._

_Please let him be all right. Please let him be all right._

_She found Lavender’s body first._

_There was not a drop of blood on her face. In fact, if Hermione didn’t know any better, it looked as if she was peacefully asleep._

_She saw Luna rushing towards the body, but Hermione didn’t follow her; instead, she searched the area for Ron._

_It didn’t take too long for her to find him. It was a scene that would be forever etched in her mind for as long as she lived._

_Ginny was the first to move. She ran as if her feet were on fire. She was screaming too._

_Harry was next. He collapsed next to Ron and she thought she heard his strangled cries._

_It seemed surreal. She knew there’d be casualties in this war. She knew that, most likely, some of these casualties would be familiar faces instead of strangers. She knew that she might be one of them as well. But all this knowledge didn’t lessen the pain when she was affronted with them._

_Percy Weasley was sprawled on the battered ground, lifeless. His head rested on Bill’s lap. The eldest Weasley sibling was crying._

_Arthur Weasley was semi-conscious, his body heavily leaning against Charlie, who seemed to be struggling with his emotions._

_Ron’s back was facing her, but she didn’t need to be near enough to know that it was Molly he was cradling in his arms._

_Hermione had never heard Ron cried the way he did right now. In fact, the only time she had seen him cry was during Dumbledore’s funeral, and even then, he didn’t let out anything more than a choked sob._

_He was rocking her back and forth, with Ginny’s cries now invading her ears, when the twins came running towards them. They seemed torn at first, at who they should run to first, seeing a dead brother they never really reconciled with lying on the ground, their injured father or their unconscious mother._

_They went after Ginny._

_Fred reached her first, and before he could ask anything, Ginny had flung herself towards him and started crying. “Mom’s dead, Fred! Mom’s dead!”_

_She wasn't just unconscious?_

_George had grabbed Ron’s shoulders to stop him from rocking._

_Hermione found herself now kneeling next to George, facing Ron. She didn’t know when she had started running there, but the pain in her knees from the impact of her ungraceful descent to the coarse ground told her this much._

“ _What happened, Ron?” George asked with much difficulty. Hermione realised George was choking back his own tears._

_When the brothers’ eyes met, Hermione saw for the first time the sorrow that was etched in Ron’s. His head was bleeding, although the cut didn't seem deep enough to cause worry. There was some kind of bruise developing around his neck, but Hermione didn't think much of it, seeing how he was still very much alive. She chanced a glance at his waist, and noticed that his wound had started to bleed again. He really did look like someone’s baby brother, fragile and lost. And it unnerved Hermione for a second, because he had always been her pillar of strength, the one who would give her a gentle nudge when she was hesitant, and the one who kept her steady when she felt like falling. The young man she was looking at now was reduced to a child who had just lost his mother._

“ _He killed him.”_

_It was full of hate and vengeance._

_They turned towards the direction Ron’s stare was now fixed on._

_She wondered why she didn’t notice it earlier. He was right there in the open for everyone to see._

_Peter Pettigrew with his severed iron arm and a deep slashed throat, sprawled on the ground with his eyes wide open in shock, staring up at the sky._

_What had happened here?_

Hermione blinked her tears away. She hated peeling onions. Sure, she could have peeled them by magic, but past experience had shown her that it wasn’t wise to practice magic when your mind was somewhere else. A bucket of squished, exploded onions was something she didn't want repeated ever again.

It was almost six now, and all the main dishes were cooked and waiting to be served. She had only one dish left to do, and that was the traditional onion soup. It was the easiest dish, too, and something she always had when she used to spend the remainder of her summer holidays at the Burrow with her friends. She felt it'd be incomplete if she had left that dish out.

Ron had returned from de-gnoming the garden about an hour after she started cooking. He was drenched in sweat, his face flushed from the heat, his hair tousled and wild. It was his parched, pale lips that warned her he might have exerted too much of his energy for his own good.

He was smiling, though, and commented on how it had been a long time since the kitchen smelt that good with cooked food. He rubbed at his tummy subconsciously, which caused her face to crack in a smirk.

She had a sandwich and a glass of pumpkin juice ready for him, knowing how hungry he would get after de-gnoming the garden. She had learnt of this ritual from the years of spending her summer in the Burrow too. Ron, more so than the other Weasleys, would come barging into the kitchen claiming he was so hungry he could eat a cow after working his arse off (in the words of Ron Weasley himself) in the garden. Mrs. Weasley, she remembered, was always too happy to serve him some food and a glass of pumpkin juice, although she would nag about him washing his hands first.

Ron sat there quietly and ate his lunch and drank his juice while she continued her tasks. The silence that encompassed them was comfortable, though, and for a while, she let herself believe that this was how it would have been if they had continued being together. That they could be as happy as Harry and Ginny and Neville and Luna.

He complimented her on the chicken sandwich and burped loudly for good measure. She had chuckled at that and refilled his glass once more before he thanked her for lunch and left to take a quick shower.

When he came back down, his hair was still dripping wet and he smelt refreshing. It reminded her of coconut milk for some reason. 

He asked her how the cooking was going and they talked about the dishes she now was an expert in cooking, and he had marvelled at her culinary skills. And then he yawned and she had sent him off to bed for a nap, no questions asked. 

Other than the sound coming from the television in the living room (Hermione always felt the need to have the television set on just to overcome the complete silence at her own apartment), everything else was peaceful and quiet, and Hermione quite enjoyed this alone time she had for herself in the kitchen. She felt she belonged there.

"Hey."

She looked up and smiled at the sight of a freshly awakened Ron, who was now yawning the rest of his sleep away. His bedridden hair sticking out in every direction, there were faint pillow lines on his cheeks and his shirt was slightly crumpled from the sleep. His parched, pale lips still worried her, but she chose not to comment on it for now. Ron seemed to be in a good mood.

"Had a good nap?"

He nodded and sat facing her. "I'm good at peeling onions without crying."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I was the only one stupid enough to linger around in the kitchen while my brothers pretended to be busy doing something. So I got the job of peeling onions and I sort of got immune to the whole crying thing."

"I'm impressed!" Hermione cried. "I've been crying for the past ten minutes over these. I wonder if there is a spell to prevent us from crying in the first place."

“You mean you’ve never looked it up?” Ron teased. “You always look stuff up.” 

“I’ve been too busy with more important things to spend time looking up something as trivial as this.” 

“I bet there’s no such spells,” Ron said. “Why come up with a non-tear spell for peeling onions when you can peel them by magic, right?” 

Hermione paused and wiped yet another tear that managed to escape her eyes. “That actually made sense.” 

"Here, let me take over and you can... do whatever you have to do next."

She passed the small bucket of onions to him and shrugged. "I have nothing else to do, I just need the onions."

"Are you making onion soup?" Ron's eyes seemed to glint for a second.

"With freshly baked bread to dip in." Hermione grinned.

"Heaven." Ron grinned back. He started peeling the onions and Hermione began watching him. "You know, when I smell onions, I think of you."

Hermione cringed. "I don't see any compliment in that whatsoever!"

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Well, to anyone else that'd be quite strange, yeah."

"Insulting seems to come to mind right now, Ron," Hermione huffed.

"Remember that talk we had by the lake under that old oak tree?"

Hermione admitted, she had been shocked by that declaration. Where did that come from? "How can I forget, Ron?"

Ron seemed to blush as his gaze dropped to the onion he was currently peeling. "Well, you were peeling onions when I stole you from Mum and Ginny. You smelt like onions when we got to the lake. I thought, wow, my stomach's all queasy and I wasn't sure if it was from the anxiety I was getting for what I was about to tell you or if the combination of lingering onions and salt water and moist grass was doing it.” 

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, struggling to stop herself from laughing out loud. 

“And then when we kissed… you had your hands on my face... you know, now that I think about it, I’m not sure if I was intoxicated by our kiss or if it’s the onion smell..."

Hermione was laughing now. She thought she was going to have a fit from laughing so much, she couldn't stop to apologise to him. But Ron seemed amused as well and was smirking at the memory.

This was the sight that greeted both Harry and Ginny when they Apparated just outside the kitchen that late afternoon.

 


	4. Replacing Ron

Beta: NorskHeksen (CM)

  4: Replacing Ron

Hermione figured it was never easy being Ron Weasley. 

_There was always someone he felt the need to protect and put first before him. And that list had recently been altered when they had kissed and professed their feelings._

_Now Ron had a girlfriend to worry about._

_Not that she wasn’t already on the list to begin with, she just figured it changed the dynamics a little._

_It really didn’t matter if she was capable enough to look after herself; that was just in Ron’s nature, to look out for everyone he held dear in his heart, and she knew this._

_Perhaps what Harry did was wise after all. Sure, it had hurt Ginny and himself, but at least the thought of her being far away and safe was a consolation comfort in these dark times._

_The invisible tent, courtesy of the Weasley Twins, was now their makeshift home as they continued their journey in searching for the final Horcrux. It also came with a self-activated heater to warm them in the night. This helped a lot as well, since they were usually careful not to start a fire and risk exposing their position to the dangers out there._

_Harry was sitting near the entrance of the closed tent, his profile almost unreadable in the dark. It didn’t take much for Hermione to know, though, that Harry was still fuming, frustrated by the turn of events earlier that day._

_They were going to destroy the third Horcrux they had found. They knew it would come with a cost, it always did. Of course Ron had made sure he received most of the blast when it exploded in their faces. That was just the way it had to be, apparently._

_Hermione was too tired to stay angry for a long period of time. She had given up on anger and was now just clinging on to hope that they’d make it through this hunt alive. Their paths seemed to meet with more danger as the search went further. There was a time when she really thought that was IT, she’d die right there and both Ron and Harry would have  to continue and save the world without her._

_“He can’t keep doing this.”_

She almost didn’t catch what Harry had just said, too lost in her own troubled thoughts. Even in the dark, she could tell that Harry was glaring at her now, as if this was all her fault to begin with. 

_“That’s just Ron, I suppose,” she said, resigned. She looked down at the sleeping form of her boyfriend next to her. He looked so peaceful, tucked safely under the thick woollen blanket; his freckles looked as if they were glowing on his pale face. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was just sleeping. The fact was, they had to cast a sleeping spell on him to ease the pain and to let the healing potion do its work. There was nothing comforting about that._

_Hermione almost asked Harry to cast a sleeping spell on her as well; her shoulder had been aching since the day before and the blast only made it worse. She didn’t ask Harry in the end, because who would cast a sleeping spell on Harry then? It wasn’t the world’s greatest secret that they had all been having a hard time sleeping at night; often their bodies would be too tired and achy to welcome sleep. Hermione decided it would be too_ _selfish to leave Harry on his own._

_She also wished that Ron hadn’t been so selfish himself. That perhaps for once, he could let her take the beating and suffering too much pain so that they had no choice but to put her to sleep. She wished for once that it had been him who had to stay up all night worrying if she would make it through the night. This sitting around in the tent with nothing but darkening thoughts to entertain was killing her._

_“One of these days, he wouldn’t be so lucky and—”_

_“Shut up, Harry! I don’t want you to even say those thoughts out loud!” Hermione whispered loudly. She was sure she would have started crying at that point if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was just too tired to do just that._

_“Well, it’s a possibility, isn’t it? And if we don’t do anything about it anytime soon, it might just happen, and then what will we do? It’d be too late! I can’t face his family if he dies, Hermione. Not when he dies because of me.”_

_“Oh Harry, this really isn’t just about you,” she sighed._

_Harry had moved closer, almost right at the end of Ron’s feet, his eyes boring into hers. “Did he tell you something? Did he tell you his plans about sacrificing himself just so I can go on and kill Voldemort and save the wizarding world? Did he go all noble on you?”_

_The sarcasm in Harry’s voice didn’t go unnoticed to her._

_“Well, it doesn’t take a lot to understand why he did what he did, does it?” Hermione huffed. “I honestly don’t get you boys. What is it with you and dying? Why can’t it be all three of us surviving it all?”_

_“Because people actually die in wars, Hermione,” Harry replied curtly._

_“I’m not stupid, Harry.”_

_“Didn’t say you were.”_

_“Look, when it comes to you and the final battle with Voldemort, Ron won’t take anything less than you coming out of it alive. He wouldn’t even take you dying along with Voldemort just so the entire world is safe as an option. No way.” Here, Hermione paused and shook her head defiantly._

_“Voldemort’s going to die, you’re going to live and become the greatest Auror in our generation, married to the only woman who can love you unconditionally.” Hermione paused again to smile at Harry because he now had that lovesick look on his face. He might have let Ginny go but Hermione was confident that he kept their love alive and brought it with him wherever he go._

_“You’ll give his parents lots of grandchildren and make his sister the happiest woman in this world so that she’ll be smiling when she dies in her sleep at a very old age with you by her side. Now, he’s willing to sacrifice himself if it means you get to live and experience all those things he envisions for you. See, Harry, he’s not just thinking about you, there’s Ginny and his parents.”_

_She looked up to find Harry wiping his angry tears away with the back of his hand. When Harry said nothing, she remained silent, lost in her own thoughts again as her fingers subconsciously played with the hems of her sweater._

_The silence was broken again when Harry said, “What about you then, Hermione? Didn’t he think of what might happen to you if he leaves you behind?”_

_She nodded. “And then there’s me.  He figures, here we have one of Harry Potter’s best friends. She helped him in the final battle, so technically, she’s a hero too, isn’t she? She’s also smart, probably the smartest witch in a long while, and so in one way or another, she’ll be useful in helping to restore some kind of peace back to this world. And in his eyes, she’s beautiful… he imagines she’d work her way through the ranks and make a name for herself. She’d go to many functions, meet a lot of important people, and then one day, Harry, he sees her going to one of those, only this time, she’d be introduced to a successful, good looking young man with a good heart, and he’d sweep her off her feet and they’d marry and have a good life.”_

_“That’s just stupid,” Harry choked._

_“Oh, you haven’t heard the rest, Harry, there are more stupid things sitting in that head of his.”_

_“I suppose you know what they are.”_

_She nodded. “Ron’s a strategist, isn’t he? We all know that well enough by now. I bet you, Harry, that he’s spent some time on his own, just picturing what the future would be where one of us dies. He’s seen you being a successful Auror, of course; sometimes he sees you as the miracle that would eventually happen to the Chudley Cannons, but most of the time, he sees you as the most feared Auror to walk this earth after the second war. Then he takes you out of the picture and he starts seeing a horrible future for his sister. He decides you can’t be replaced, not The Boy Who Lived. So he decides to take me out of the picture, and that just won’t do. Not only would he not make it another day without me, he decides that the Ministry would be  lost unless guided by my intelligence.” Hermione paused and rolled her eyes at this. “So he figures, no, she can’t be substituted with someone else, and he decides to take himself out of the picture.”_

_Harry snorted. “Let me guess, Ron Weasley can be replaced?”_

_Hermione smirked and nodded. “But of course, Harry! They still have five other boys, don’t they? Losing one would only mean one less mouth to feed and a spare bedroom. Bill and Charlie already have lives of their own. Let’s not even talk about Percy. The twins will start many more WWW franchises, and his little sister will be happily married to you, and Hermione will go on to greater things, he’s confident of that. At the end of the day, he figures Ron is the best to be sent out and sacrificed, and everyone will still live happily ever after.”_

_Harry shook his head. “That’s not true! That’s absurd!”_

_“That’s Ron’s head.”_

_“Did he tell you this?”_

_Hermione frowned. “Are you kidding me? Since when does Ron tells anyone what he REALLY thinks? He usually says things without thinking first, probably just to make me mad. ”_

_“Then how do you know this?”_

_“How can I not, Harry? I love him too much.”_

_Harry seemed to blush at this sudden declaration of feelings, and his gaze fell to his own hands in front of him._

_“There will be no happily ever after if he dies. There’s just—”_

_“He doesn’t see it that way Harry, and that’s stupid, you’re right.”_

_“I don’t think I can live if he dies,” Harry whispered. “I don’t think I can live if you die, Hermione.”_

_“I know. I feel the same way too, Harry. We all do. I’d sacrifice myself in a heartbeat if it means you both live. I know you’d do the same thing too. We’re putting everyone else first, that’s because we love them. But there’s a difference between Ron and the two of us.”_

_Harry ran his fingers through his messy hair and sighed. “Yeah?”_

_“We sacrifice ourselves in hope that they’d live to see the future, and even though we’re gone, we hope that our spirits will live on in their hearts. We want them to miss us and not forget us and always think of us. Am I right here, Harry?”_

_Harry was smiling at her and she knew she had been right. She doubted there was anything left that the boys would do that would surprise her. Hermione loved her ‘boys’, and even though they sometimes stopped talking to her because of something she said or did, they always made their way back to her._

_“I don’t think I can ever keep a secret from you, Hermione. You read me like an open book.”_

_“Are you making fun of me and books again?” Hermione asked._

_Harry laughed, something that rarely happened lately.  “No, for once, I’m being honest. That’s exactly what I hope will happen should I die. So Ron’s different than us.”_

_Hermione nodded again as she stole another glance at her boyfriend. She thought she heard him groan in his sleep. “Ron would sacrifice himself thinking that everyone he loves will see the future and move on without him, without really losing anything much and be happy. Which is wrong! He doesn’t see it! He thinks so little of himself, and that’s what frustrates me! He needs to know that any amount of success or books in this world could never substitute for living a life without him.”_

_Harry’s gaze shifted to the sleeping form of Ron. He seemed to study him for a while before a hint of smile broke to the surface. “We have a stubborn one on our hands, Hermione. You can tell him as many times as you want, I don’t think he’d back down.”_

_“So what do we do, Harry?”_

_“We stay alive. All three of us.”_

_Hermione smiled. The conversation would have gone on longer than that if it hadn’t been for Ron’s soft groan. The spell was wearing off, and Ron, in his half-awakened state, managed to tell them that he was suddenly thirsty. Seeing how he was struggling, Harry helped him up while Hermione reached for their bottle of water._

_They stayed up the entire night, making sure Ron was comfortable while the fever ran its course. They had survived another day, and that was all that mattered then._

-

 

It was almost eight, and there were still no signs of the Weasley twins or Neville and Luna. While Hermione fretted over the last minute touches with Ginny helping out in whatever ways she could, Ron and Harry had retreated to the living room to watch whatever programme that was on television. 

 

Harry soon found out that Ron’s favourite channel was the Cartoon Network. 

 

“Hey, remember when we were young and stupid?” 

 

Ron turned to Harry and nodded. “What did we do yesterday again?” 

 

Harry rolled his eyes and smacked Ron upside the head playfully. “I don’t know about you, Ron, but my young and stupid days have been gone for more than two years now.” 

 

“Aww, come on mate, you still look young and stupid to me.” 

 

Harry huffed and this amused Ron greatly. 

 

_Since when do Aurors huff?_

 

“Do you guys still have the ford Anglia?” 

 

Ron raised his eyebrow in question. “You know that one is history, Harry. Even the forest is barely there anymore, I’d be surprised if it survived the war.” 

 

Harry’s face fell. “That was fun.” 

 

“Being chased by spiders?” Ron gasped.  

 

“Don’t be so thick. I meant the flying car.” 

 

“Oh yeah. That seems ancient now.” 

 

“Funny though, we’re not even twenty for another year,” Harry said and then giggled at Tasmanian Devil swallowing a grand piano. 

 

“Yet that didn’t cross your mind when you married my sister,” Ron pointed out. 

 

“I thought you couldn’t wait to have me as your brother in law!”  

 

“I was just trying to get rid of Ginny.”

 

“We feel the love, Ron.” 

 

“Good to know.” Ron grinned. “So what have you both been doing other than getting my sister to fight Voldemort’s leftovers and constantly put herself in danger and make me worry?” 

 

“Well, I’d tell you, but the image would scar you for life.” 

 

“Okay, you both need to get out and have a life.”

 

Harry winced. “Sorry, brother-in-law, but I don’t think you have a place to talk about that. You don’t even want to join us on weekends.” 

 

“Too much hassle, Harry,” Ron said, almost in a whisper. “Things could get messy, and besides, I can’t leave my dad alone, you know how it is.” 

 

“You know there’s a way to solve that. And the twins could drop by and take care of your dad for a while, couldn’t they? You know Ron, Dad does have four other sons who are willing enough to drop by and take care of him. I could do it too when I’m off duty.” 

 

Ron smiled. It always made him warm inside when Harry referred to his dad as Dad. They really were tied by marriage now. 

 

“If you’re here looking after Dad, what would I do with myself out there, Harry?” 

 

“Well, I thought you and… Hermionecoulddosomethingtogether.” 

 

Ron smirked. “Please Harry, she’s just being nice and cooking us all dinner.” 

 

“She’s your girlfriend, Ron, war shouldn’t change that.” 

 

Ron stole a glance towards the kitchen and, satisfied that both ladies were preoccupied, turned to look back at Harry. “It changed a lot of things, Harry. I can’t hold her back.” 

 

“And yet she remains single for the last two years, waiting for you. She seems to do that all on her own Ron.” 

 

“Can we not talk about this now?” 

 

“When are we going to talk about it then? You’re never out with the rest of us. I hardly ever see you because of work. We’re best friends, or did that change as well? Because if it did, I didn’t get the memo.” 

 

Seeing that Ron chose to keep quiet and not answer, Harry went on. “I don’t think I could go through a day after the war if it hadn’t been for your sister. She keeps me sane, and I guess I keep her sane too. Did you know that Hermione still looks over her shoulder every five minutes when she’s out there?” 

 

Ron frowned. “What’s wrong with her?” 

 

“Afraid, I guess. You just never know if you’re being followed now, do you? I wonder if she still has those nightmares, though. She never talks about that anymore.” 

 

“Nightmares?” 

 

Harry nodded. “I guess we’re all not right up there after the war, eh? Some screws loose, I bet.” 

 

“I don’t want her burdened with my problems,” Ron replied. 

 

“Yet you’d kill anyone in a heartbeat if they tried to harm her just so she’d stop looking over her shoulders.” 

 

Ron sighed. He combed his fingers through his hair and couldn’t find it in him to laugh at Sylvester’s yet-another-failed-attempt to capture that yellow bird. “That’s the problem, isn’t it Harry? I can’t jump in front of her and make sure she’s safe anymore. I mean, have you looked at me lately?” 

 

Harry frowned. “What’s wrong with you?” 

 

“Oh, nice try Harry.” Ron rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong is that I’m constantly sick. I can’t keep up with anything anymore. I’m barely surviving on my own, Harry. I don’t want to hold anyone back, my brothers have so much to look forward to, and I don’t want Ginny to get stuck in this place and play Mum to both me and Dad when we all know she’s so much better than that. Hermione’s so much better than that. I know she’d drop everything and be with me if I let her, and I don’t want that for her!” 

 

There were tears in Ron’s eyes, something that surprised Harry tremendously. Ron had always been good at hiding his emotions. Harry wondered if this was the first time Ron had actually said what had been in his mind all that time. He also realised getting Ron all worked up probably wasn’t the best thing to do, considering how much paler he suddenly looked. 

 

“But Ron… don’t you think that’s Hermione’s choice to make?” 

 

Harry never did get a reply because the twins had Apparated right on top of the coffee table and broke it in half.  

 

 


	5. Anything Chocolate

  
Author's notes:

A/n: Huge thanks again to NorskHeksen (CM) for the beta service! 

* * *

 

5: Anything Chocolate

 

There was an unspoken tension in the air; Hermione knew everyone in the room felt it too. She watched helplessly as Ginny repeated the spell again only to be let down when nothing happened. Harry had gone from helping his wife cast the spell together to just standing next to her, defeated. 

 

“It’s not working, Ginny, please stop,” George pleaded, finally breaking the silence. 

 

“It’s not like we meant for it to happen,” Fred added. 

 

“Yeah, we didn’t know Ron had shifted that table to the left,” George countered. 

 

Ginny paused and looked up at her two brothers, frustration etched on her youthful face. “You could have Flooed in! You _should_ have Flooed in!”

 

“We thought we were late,” explained Fred. 

 

“And you know how small the fireplace is,” added George.

 

“So we figured while Dad Flooed in…”

 

“We should just Apparate instead…”

 

“And arrive here at the exact same time,” Fred finished. 

 

“We don’t want to keep you waiting, especially Hermione,” George had to add, of course. 

 

“Yeah, we want her to cook dinner at the Burrow more often.” 

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. Leave it to the twins to crack a joke while their sister was obviously frustrated. Over what exactly, Hermione wasn’t sure. It was just a coffee table right? 

 

“The fact of the matter is, you both should know well not to Apparate here. What did I keep telling you both? Floo is your best friend!” Ginny cried. “And this… this coffee table… isn’t just a coffee table, George and Fred Weasley, it’s one of the very few things left that haven’t been ruined in the bloody war, and Mum always put our sandwiches and tea on it every night while we gathered around as she told us stories of our uncles and grandparents! Have you two forgotten about that?” 

 

Hermione’s heart fell. She turned to Harry, who incidentally, was looking at her as well. Somehow, she knew that Harry was feeling the same thing she did. This wasn’t their territory at all. This was a Weasley thing. 

 

“Ginevra.” George approached his sister and when he offered her a hug, Ginny didn’t push him away. “We remember.” 

 

“And we’re sorry it’s broken,” Fred said. 

 

“But you forget one thing, Ginny,” George said, ruffling her hair. 

 

“What’s that?” Ginny frowned. 

 

“Memories live forever in here,” Fred said, as he pointed to his chest, where the heart was.

 

“And in here.” George added, now stabbing his finger at his own temple. 

 

“She’s everywhere, really.” Hermione turned to find Ron coming down the stairs. He had left to put his dad back to bed. He’d had quite a day at the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, he claimed, and had an early dinner of KFC, courtesy of the twins and their way to incorporate something Muggle for his own amusement. 

 

There was that sadness again, thought Hermione as she watched him came down the last few steps of the stairs. It was true indeed, no matter how broken the Burrow had been after the war and the repairs done to make sure it continued to stand, Molly Weasley’s presence was felt everywhere. 

 

“But enough about that and the silly table, I’m starving, lets eat,” Ron continued, already making his way to the kitchen. 

 

“But—” George didn’t get to finish his sentence as Ginny glared and shook her head no at him. “Yeah, let’s eat, I’m starving myself.” 

 

As the Weasleys made their way to the kitchen, Harry slowed down to join her at the back. He threw her a reassuring smile and then sighed softly. “So, this is the awkwardness you both felt around me when Sirius died.” 

 

“Something like that,” Hermione nodded as they entered the kitchen. She muttered a spell under her breath and the dishes she had prepared appeared on the table. In an instant, the tension left the Burrow, replaced by widely grinning group of hungry wizards and witches. 

 

“Nothing smells as good as a home-cooked meal!” George exclaimed as he eyed the feast. 

 

“Blimey Hermione, did you make all this yourself?” Fred asked. 

 

“Everything except the onion soup; Ron helped me with that,” Hermione said as she eyed the empty seat next to Ron and braced herself to sit there. Two empty seats next to her would be for Neville and Luna. 

 

“Well Ron’s an expert in that, isn’t he?” George said. 

 

“He can cook it with his eyes closed,” Fred agreed. 

 

“You made it for me once when we couldn’t fall asleep one night, remember that Ron?” Ginny smiled. 

 

Ron nodded. “Yeah, I do.” 

 

“I remember onion soup on a very cold night,” Harry said dreamily. “These look amazing, Hermione.” 

 

“Thank you.” Hermione smiled nervously. “I hope they taste good as well.” 

 

“I’m sure they do,” Ron said. “Do we have to wait for Neville and Luna?” 

 

“Oh yeah, it’d be kind of rude if we tuck in first, wouldn’t it?” Ginny asked. 

 

“Well, they might be held back by an emergency, you know how it is at St. Mungo’s. I think we should just start without them, there’s plenty here for everyone,” Hermione said. 

 

“I’d still eat if you had told us to wait,” Ron said, already reaching for a chicken wing. “I’ve been tortured by the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen all day.” 

 

“Enough to make a starving man go mad.” Fred nodded. 

 

“Tuck in then.” George urged as he reached for the bowl of mashed potato. 

 

“I’m sorry I don’t cook as often as I should, Harry,” Ginny said as she dipped a small piece of bread into her onion soup. “I know you prefer home-cooked meals to take outs.” 

 

“Maybe you should be a housewife, that way your five brothers can stop worrying about you,” George said. 

 

“And then you can drop by our place and bring some of those home-cooked meals you’re cooking for your husband,” Fred agreed. 

 

“Or maybe you both can go find your own wife and get her to cook your meals,” Ginny retorted. 

 

“Right then, Hermione will you marry me?” George blurted out. 

 

“Ah bloody hell, I was going to do that!” Fred exclaimed. 

 

Hermione almost choked on her piece of bread and stole a glance at Ron. If looks could kill, the twins would be dead by now. 

 

“Honestly George, when you propose to someone, you must actually love the woman!” Ginny nagged. 

 

Harry seemed content to eat his dinner quietly. 

 

“Hermione, I love you, and your cooking skills,” George said.

 

“I’ll have you both know that even if I do get married, I will definitely not be a housewife,” Hermione claimed. “There is nothing wrong with being a housewife, of course.” 

 

“And she’d like to have a say in how things are run in the family,” Ron said. “Which means, you can’t test any of your inventions on your future kids.” 

 

This, for some reason, made everyone laugh. Everyone save for Hermione. She couldn’t believe it, but Ron remembered. All this time and he remembered what she had said before, under that old oak tree!

 

After that, her appetite grew and everyone fell into comfortable silence, each entertaining to their own thoughts while ravishing the dishes spread in front of them. It wasn’t until she stole another glance towards Ron did she realise he had stopped eating and was picking on the piece of bread and dumping breadcrumbs in the leftover onion soup. 

 

“Did you like what I cooked tonight?” she asked, resting her palm gently on his arm to get his attention. 

 

“Yes of course!” Ron replied, surprised she had to even ask. “You won’t hear those two shut up if you cook something horrible.” 

 

“Hey!” George interjected. 

 

“That’s rude,” Fred added. 

 

“Don’t you both ever get tired of finishing each others’ sentences?” Harry asked, amused. 

 

“Nope,” both twins replied. 

 

Hermione ignored them and turned back to Ron. “You aren’t eating.” 

 

“I ate!” Ron objected, showing his empty plate. “A chicken wing, mashed potato, mixed veggie and this soup.” 

 

“Exactly my point!” Hermione exclaimed. “You ate at least three chicken drumsticks and a handful of bacon and eggs and you’d finish it off with a couple of desserts back at Hogwarts. I had to keep reminding you not to stuff yourself too much.” 

 

Ron shrugged. “I was a growing boy then, I ate a lot. I don’t eat that much anymore.” 

 

“Won’t you at least have an éclair then? For pudding?” Hermione urged, already reaching for one. 

 

“I’m kind of full right now. I will make sure I eat one later, okay?” 

 

Hermione pulled her hand back and nodded. “You better! I made them especially for you. I know how much you love everything chocolate.” 

 

_She found him under the old oak tree, looking out towards the lake. It was a bit unnerving for Hermione to be there. Not because it was the exact same place they had both declared their love for each other, but because the lake and the oak tree looked the same, undisturbed. As if the war had not just come and passed and destroyed everything within its path. As if the war had never happened at all._

_Yet the very reason why she had found him there was because of the war. He was escaping reality, even if just for a while, and she felt bad for always having to pull him away from his hiding place._

_She sat on the bench right under the tree – something that Charlie had conveniently placed there. She put the glass of pumpkin juice next to her and the chocolate muffin on her lap, carefully holding on to it. It was still warm, just the way Ron liked it._

_There was no need to call for him, he would come when he was tired enough to sit. For now, she was content to study the back of him from where she was. You could tell so much of a person just by the way he stood; this Hermione had learnt after days of the same routine._

_Time waiting for Ron to come to her was spent memorising certain chapters of_ Hogwarts: A History _. She never brought the book with her on her little waiting-for -Ron routine, but her mind never stopped working. She would randomly figure out a chapter and the page and she would match that with a quote found in that page. Sometimes, the quote that she recalled would bring her back to the days when Harry, Ron and her had gone to find and destroy the Horcruxes. For example, when she quoted something that Helga Hufflepuff had done, she would think about the cup and the journey they went through together to finding and destroying it._

_Ron was right, she figured; it was tough for them back then, but looking at it now, it had been bittersweet. In fact, she had found herself smiling at the memories and sometimes even laughed about certain things. Like the time when they didn’t perform a counter spell properly and it backfired on them. She had a sprained ankle because of it and Harry had a deep gash on his arm that left behind yet another scar. Ron had burn marks on his body and they were all covered in dark soot. It was horrible; they were hungry and cold and their medical supply was running low. And then Ron’s stomach started to growl. Loudly._

_It was like a wake up call, at least to Harry and Hermione; that they were constantly starving and physically unfit to move on with their quest. Their spirits were down, it was a challenge both mentally and physically. She remembered the tensed silence that encompassed their tent until Ron snorted and said, “You know, some day, we’ll think back to this day and laugh our arses off. Hey, remember when Ron’s stomach growl so loud that we thought it was a bear?”_

_“You’re smiling.”_

_She looked up to find Ron making his way back to the bench; as always, his expression was unreadable. “Sorry, I was just—”_

_“Sorry for smiling?”_

_“Well, I don’t think it’s right to—”_

_“Smile when everyone is grieving?” Ron cut in again as he stood in front of her._

_“Is this how it’s going to be from now on? You’re going to finish off my thoughts for me? Like the twins?”_

_His gaze fixed on her for a few more seconds before he moved to sit next to her, a glass of pumpkin juice in between them. “We need more smiles around here.”_

_“You can do with one yourself,” Hermione said. “I miss it.”_

_He turned and smiled. “I still smile you know, it’s just lately, I can’t help grimacing instead. Not by choice, but I guess it’s a better trade than being six feet under, yeah?”_

_“Ron, please… don’t…”_

_He took the glass of juice and had a sip before looking back at her. “Is that for me?”_

_She wiped away the tears and cleared her throat and then looked down at the muffin in her hands. She passed it to him and as their hands touched and made that connection, she felt a surge of pain so tight that for a few second she thought her heart was going to explode._

_She missed him._

_“Did you make this?”_

_She nodded._

_“And the chocolate biscuit from yesterday as well?”_

_She nodded again. “I thought it’d be easier to win you with anything chocolate.”_

_He smiled again. “Looks like it’s working.”_

_“Is it really? Does this mean you’ll stop pushing me away?”_

_“I’m not pushing you away.”_

_“Yes, you are, and you know it. I’m not mad, you know, I think I understand why. I just want you to know, in case you’ve forgotten, that I’m a very stubborn witch and I stick to the things I believe in and I don’t intend on giving up.”_

After dinner, George and Fred bid an early goodnight, having to start work early the next day. Ever since the war, the joke shop was now only a cover. The truth was, both Fred and George, like Ginny, worked for the Ministry. They invented a lot of useful gadgets for the Aurors and were very influential when it came to setting up a solid Ministry of Magical Defense for the Aurors. This little known fact was also a well-guarded secret, known only to the immediate family members and friends. 

 

Both Harry and Ginny retreated to the living room as Hermione mounted éclairs on the plate as after snacks. It had been awhile since the four of them had sat down and spent the day together. If they were lucky, Neville and Luna might just join them after all. 

 

“Thanks for the dinner, again,” Ron said as he helped to clear the dishes away. 

 

“You’re welcome.” She smiled. “Can I ask you something?” 

 

Ron shrugged. “Yeah.” 

 

“How come you never fix the pipes at my house with one of your brilliant ring… things?” 

 

“Well… it depends on the condition of the pipes and the building itself. In your case, those pipes are too old to be fixed with just a simple spell,” Ron replied. 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yeah… why?” 

 

Hermione smirked. “Nothing… just wondering.” 

 

“Right, so… I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but I think I’m going to give myself an early night as well, will that be alright for you?” 

 

Hermione shook her head. “Yeah, of course, it’s alright. Are you… are you okay? You’ve been looking a bit pale all night.” 

 

“I’m fine, I’m just…tired.” Ron replied nonchalantly. “Look, I know it’s late and I’d do it myself if I wasn’t so knackered all of a sudden… but unless Harry sends you home, I want you to stay here for the night, alright? You can have Ginny’s room, it’s not like she stays here anymore anyway. We can floo you home first thing in the morning so you can clean up and go to work, but just don’t go home on your own tonight, can you do that?” 

 

Ron’s frown was etched with worries, and despite the fact that his sudden tiredness and even paler complexion was alarming her, Hermione couldn’t help thinking how adorable and considerate he was. 

 

_This is why I waited two years for him. And I’m still waiting._

 

“Ron, calm down.” Hermione smiled. “I won’t go back home on my own, I promise.” 

 

“Good, that’s good.” 

 

“Now why don’t you go ahead and rest? I’ll tell the Aurors you said goodnight.” 

 

“Yeah… well, goodnight then,” Ron said awkwardly. Hermione wasn’t sure if it’d be appropriate to kiss him goodnight. What was she to him again? Friend? Girlfriend? What? 

 

“Goodnight, Ron.” She smiled. 

 

He nodded once again and even waved at her before climbing up the stairs to his room. She let out a small laugh, suddenly reminded of the goofy, unsure Ronald Weasley she once knew. 

 

When Hermione entered the living room with the plate of snacks in her hand, Harry and Ginny were laughing at some chat show host on television. 

 

“Where’s Ron?” Harry asked. 

 

“He’s gone to bed, said he’s too tired.” 

 

“You know you don’t have to worry too much over him,” Ginny said. “It’s normal for him to have an early night. Sometimes, when it gets too much, he takes long naps in the afternoon as well. It was very weird at first; you know how Ron is, don’t you? He’s always moving around and doing something and always very loud.”

 

“He’s kind of not, anymore,” Harry added. “Not that it’s his fault.” 

 

Hermione sighed. “I wish he’d let me help him.” 

 

“Don’t we all?” Ginny said. “He takes good care of Dad though, something that I should be doing.”

 

“Because you’re a girl?” Hermione asked. 

 

“When it all comes down to it… yeah.” 

 

Hermione smiled. “I’ll have you know, Ron won’t have any of that.” 

 

“How would you know that?” Ginny asked suspiciously. 

 

“Because I know him.” Hermione smiled. “Am I right, Harry?” 

 

Harry was smiling and shaking his head at the same time, a knowing look in his eyes. “Yes… yeah, you’re right. Crazy as it sounds, yeah, Ron would rather you be out there with me even though it worries him to no end to know you’re risking your life every second than be here.” 

 

“Sometimes I feel like you both know my brother more than I do.” 

 

“It’s not that, Ginny. This is just something a big brother usually keeps from his little sister.” Harry explained. 

 

“Hey, did he tell you both about this treatment Neville and Luna have been working on?” Hermione asked, changing the subject. It still made her giddy just thinking about what this could mean for Ron. More flexibility and less of a hassle, definitely something Ron Weasley would like to get back in his life. 

 

And perhaps, he’d let her in too.

 

“Treatment?” Harry asked. 

 

“For the injury?” Ginny asked, equally hopeful. 

 

Hermione nodded, failing miserably to hide her grin. “It’s been approved for testing and they thought Ron would be the best candidate to try it out. He had his first session yesterday in fact.” 

 

“Well, this look like it’s something more than just fixing a pipe and cooking dinner to me.” Harry grinned as he wiggled his eyebrows playfully at Hermione.

 

“Honestly Harry, as much as I would love to see my daft brother get back with Hermione, you know there’s nothing more to it.” After giving Harry a playful smack on the arm, Ginny turned to Hermione once again. “This treatment, will it cure him for good?” 

 

 

 

Hermione laughed at the playful banter between her friends and fiercely ignored the sharp pain in her chest that longed to have a relationship that they had. She shook her head and said, “ No, not really. It uses a more advanced spell to control the bleeding and if things work out for him, it’ll stop eventually.”

 

Ginny had tears in her eyes and Harry was grinning as wide as Hermione. “Oh it has to work! He deserves that much!” 

 

“It won’t heal the wound though but the good news is, he doesn’t have to use the salve anymore, which, after what I saw yesterday, is something he could do without.” Hermione grimaced at the memory.

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, the salve was tough… so, he’s okay with everything then? I just thought he looked too pale tonight but if—”

 

“Well, he’s been looking pale since earlier today… I’m not sure what the arrangements are between him and Neville. I had to leave early for work… of course, I should check with Neville about this, we need to know about the process and the side effects if there are any.” 

 

“I wonder what kept them tonight,” Ginny said. “We could drop by St. Mungo’s and pass them your dishes if you want, Hermione.” 

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I bet ten galleons those two are stuck with some kind of emergency back there. You should come too, Hermione, we can Floo back to your apartment from there. It’s not safe to travel on your own this late, even by Floo.” 

 

“Of course, I’d like that.” 

 

There was a little pause as they helped themselves to some éclairs and Hermione wished she could ask them about their job but most of the tasks were kept secret and she didn’t want to put them in difficult position about it. She could offer them some insight on her job but she didn’t feel like talking about anything job related. 

 

“So, I have a question,” Hermione blurted out. It had been sitting at the back of her mind, nagging its way to the front for quite sometime that night. 

 

“As long as it’s not work related, shoot away,” Harry said. 

 

“Why shouldn’t the twins Apparate in the Burrow? Does this rule apply to everyone?” Hermione asked as she took another bite of her éclair. “Because we Apparated here this morning from Hogsmeade.” 

 

“Wait, you were both at Hogsmeade this morning? Together?” Harry asked. 

 

“Oh honestly!” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Ignore Harry for a minute why don’t you? He’s been rather weird lately, I mean, he cried when we watched that Muggle movie Titanic just two days ago.” 

 

“Oh really?” Hermione laughed. 

 

“Most women love a sensitive romantic guy,” Harry said, rather seriously. 

 

“I’m not most women, that’s why you married me,” Ginny reminded him. “Anyway Hermione, remember in your fifth year when we were in Grimmauld’s Place and they Apparated on his lap?” 

 

Hermione laughed at the memory and then when it dawned upon her, every trace of smile was gone from her face. “Oh Godric, no way!” 

 

Ginny shook her head. “It was worse than that. This happened the first week after everyone left the Burrow. It was only Ron and Dad in the house and he was still coping with doing everything on his own then and it took a toll on him and he sort of…” 

 

“He was dehydrated and collapsed on the kitchen floor and couldn’t call for help. When the twins Apparated, George stepped on him,” Harry finished. 

 

Hermione gasped. “How come I didn’t know any of these?” 

 

“Well… Ron asked us not to tell you. It took a lot to convince you to start living on your own, Hermione; he didn’t want you to come running back when you heard about the little accident.” 

 

Hermione slumped back on her chair. There was so much she had missed ever since she moved out. This was exactly why she was reluctant to go in the first place. She refused to listen to Ron and was quite stubborn about staying around and helping him out. It really didn’t matter to her if Ron was having second thoughts about their relationship for whatever reason; she loved him and wanted to be there for him and the family that had always treated her like their own. 

 

But Hermione was so much more than that, and Ron knew this other side of her. He convinced her to step forward and do her part in salvaging what was left of the Wizarding world. 

 

_“You know you want to.”_

_“I do. But I can start with you. Let me help you.”_

_“I have a roof over my head and I’m not starving to death, I think I’m much better off than those poor kids we read about in the Quibbler. They need your help more than I do. You’re not going to turn away from them, are you? That’s not the Hermione I know.”_

 

“I know why Ron does the things he does, that’s just Ron. But it still hurts sometime, to be pushed away.” 

 

Ginny reached out to hold her hand and Harry gave her an apologetic smile. “Do you want me to get Viktor? Maybe that would wake him up.” 

 

Hermione laughed. “Oh, that’d be a sight.” 

 

An owl flying into the living room out of nowhere caught them off guard. It landed on Harry. 

 

“Must be from the Ministry.” Ginny sighed. “Damn it, we’re not supposed to work tonight.” 

 

“Riot in Azkaban… got to go…” Harry rushed, already reaching for the cloaks.

 

“What! Okay, go on then, don’t let me stop you!” Hermione exclaimed. 

 

“Hermione, don’t go home alone tonight alright? Just—”

 

“Harry, don’t worry, I won’t. You both go now and—”

 

There was a popping sound, and both Harry and Ginny were gone in a blink of an eye. “…Take care.” 

 

Hermione sighed, unsure of what to do next. It was still too early to call it a night, and since she would be in the Burrow, there was nothing to keep her mind busy since all her work related stuff was back home. There were the éclairs and the television; she figured that would do. 

 

“Maybe I should check on Ron and Mr. Weasley first,” Hermione thought out loud. “Great, now I’m talking to myself.” 

 

Making her way up the stairs, she grinned when it started to creak on the sixth step. Back then, when she was young (she knew she was still very young at 19, but wars forced kids to grow up in a blink of an eye) and naïve, she’d consider this little founding as a sign. 

 

_Isn’t Ron the sixth child?_

_Ron’s heart creaks for you, Hermione._

Hermione felt herself blushing. How corny was she back then? 

 

She reached Mr. Weasley’s room first. 

 

Mr. Weasley was sound asleep and it brought a smile to her face. There used to be a time when he couldn’t even bring himself to step into this very room. This made her think of her own parents back home. It really didn’t matter that she spent at least once a week with them; she missed them all the time. You never really knew how much you love someone until they were taken away from you. Or in her case, almost taken away from her. 

 

Sensing that everything was in order, she left and made her way to Ron’s room, which was conveniently unlocked. 

 

“Ron?” 

 

There was no answer, although Hermione thought she heard his soft snores. She walked into the room almost on tiptoes and went straight for the window to make sure it was locked. The room felt cold to her and she shivered slightly. From what little light was left in the room, she could see the side table lined with vials of potion. There was also a new roll of bandage and the familiar powerful smell of that infamous salve, still in its powdered form, kept in a bottle. 

 

It was hard to believe that Ron had been living with these for two years. Hermione remembered how back in school and even while they were away hunting for Horcruxes, she’d listen to the conversations between Harry and him, talking about the future. He had always wanted to be an Auror, or keeper for the Chudley Cannons. Hermione always told him he could be whatever he wanted to be. That’s you Hermione, not us, he’d joke. 

 

Look at him now, her heart whispered. 

 

“It’s so unfair.” 

 

He looked so peaceful in his sleep, despite the still pale and parched looking lips. 

 

Pulling the rather worn out blanket up to his chest, she took another look at his face before whispering a soft goodnight and left. 

 

Making her way to Ginny’s room, she stifled a yawn. She didn’t realize how tired she was; all that work in the kitchen the entire day had suddenly taken a toll on her, but she found herself looking forward to another time as fun as that night. Perhaps being a housewife wasn’t that bad after all? Look at Mrs. Weasley, she was a housewife and Hermione regarded her as one of her heroes. Such a strong woman and witch she was. 

 

She sank appreciatively on the bed and allowed her muscles to relax. As she pondered the reasons behind Neville and Luna’s no-show at dinner and worried about the safety of both Harry and Ginny out there, Hermione fell into a dreamless sleep. 

 


	6. Ron Weasley

  
Author's notes: Beta: NorskHeksen (CM)  


* * *

6: Ron Weasley 

_The party was beginning to die down by then, most of the guests had left, but music was still playing in the background. For the life of her, Ginny could never remember who the singer was, but she knew enough to know that it was one of her mother’s favourites. Fred and George were dancing together, making fun of themselves, and Bill had Fleur tight in his grasp while Charlie sat with her dad, having a one sided conversation that didn’t seem to mind her brother a bit. Everyone was relaxed and jovial for a change and if she had known that it would only take her wedding to make them laugh again, she wouldn’t mind getting married to Harry Potter everyday._

_Harry Potter, her husband. Who knew?_

_“There was a time when I found your lovesick gaze nauseating.” Ginny raised her head lazily to look into the face of her dance partner. “But tonight it soothes me. I’m happy for you, little sister. Oh wait, it’s Mrs. Potter now isn’t it?”_

 

 

_She smiled. Yes, she liked the sound of that._

_“My beautiful little sister, who knew, eh?” She loved it when Ron teased her. It wasn’t the same when the twins teased her; they more often than not had put a demeaning tinge to it, even if not on purpose. Charlie’s and Billy’s teases always had that serious big brother connotation to them, but Ron was different; his teasing was like soft cuddles, warm and fluffy._

_He smiled with that twinkle in his eyes, and it was all it took for her to fling her arms around him and hug him as if she never would ever want to let go. She felt safe here, in his arms, in this place, his soothing voice always lulling her to sleep, just like when they were kids and she couldn’t sleep, and he’d talk and talk about nothing and everything, and it bored her to death and eventually knocked her out. Sure, she had six older brothers in the family, but it had always been him she looked to for comfort when she was young._

_Things changed for a little when they were both in Hogwarts. They bickered like no other, and she always gave him a reason to put that overprotective older brother streak to test. Oh how he used to annoy and suffocate her… but of all her brothers, Ron had a special place in her heart._

_“Ginny…”_

_“I love you,” she cried into his chest. She had almost lost him, too many times in fact, and these days, she was old enough to understand that she could lose him at any moment. Ginny didn’t think she could handle losing another brother. “Don’t you ever leave me.”_

_When she didn’t get any response to that, she unwillingly looked up again, searching for his eyes and realised he was blinking back the tears. However, the light twitch from the corner of his mouth gave him away. She wished he would just give in and cry._

_“Ron…” she whispered, not trusting her voice to say more than just his name. This was not the time to cry, not when everyone around them was laughing._

_“I love you too… and I’m not going anywhere,” he choked as he looked down to meet her gaze._

_“Promise?” There was a lot hanging behind this one word. Ginny knew it was unfair to put such a pressure on her brother, especially with his condition – he was in no position to make promises he couldn’t keep –but Ginny needed some kind of assurance, was desperate for it._

_He nodded. “You shouldn’t cry, it took Hermione forever to put that make up on your face. And that’s saying a lot for Hermione.”_

_It didn’t go unnoticed to her that Ron didn’t verbalise his promise._

_He was brushing a tear on her cheek with his thumb and it reminded her of the day he left for Hogwarts. The train had just left platform 9 ¾ and immediately, she felt the lost. There would be no one left at home to play with her. She remembered hugging her mum and sobbing until she hiccupped and her mum had brushed her tears away just the way Ron was doing now._

_“I don’t think Harry and I should move out so soon, this house is big enough for the four of us,” she blurted out, almost pleading._

_Ron was shaking his head, something she’d expected from him. “As much as our parents love us together in this house, Ginny, they really want us to learn to live on our own and have our own experiences in life. Why do you think they let Bill and Charlie work so far away from home? Look at Fred and George. It’s your time now.”_

_“What about you then, Ron?”_

_Ron shrugged. “Someone’s got to stay behind and take care of stuff here. If mum were still-” Ron paused; there was that sadness again. It was gone in a blink of an eye, but she saw it. “When you leave, don’t be a stranger to this house, yeah? Me and Dad accept any home-cooking or take out food from any Weasleys, and Potters, with open arms.”_

_“What about Grangers?”_

_His gaze strayed over her head and then fixed on a spot. Ginny didn’t have to look back to know that it was Hermione his eyes were fixed on. She was dancing with Harry._

_“Ron?”_

_He looked back down at her and offered her a smile before pulling her in for a tight hug again. They stayed that way for a very long time. Part of her was excited over the prospects of living with Harry, having their own private house. She was also accepted into Auror training and if things picked up, she might just get to partner with Harry one day. But another part of her worried for her brother and dad, on their own in this house without their Mum. She had always been the one who took care of business around here._

_Was Ron strong enough to restrain Dad on his own when he had one of those fits at night? Would he be strong enough to do the laundry, cook a decent meal, clean the house, take care of Dad’s every need all on his own?_

_Who would be there for Ron then? Godric, he was only eighteen!_

_“Maybe we can ask Bill to stay here for a while?”_

_Ron sighed. “Ginny, they don’t live far from the Burrow. Besides, I don’t think you’d like the idea of Fleur messing up Mum’s kitchen much, do you?”_

_“No, I don’t,” she smiled. “Maybe Charlie then? He doesn’t have a family of his own to go to.”_

_“Don’t let him hear you say that. Those dragons are his babies!” Ron joked. “We shouldn’t hold him back Gin. We can’t be selfish, there’s a lot of work to do after the war.”_

_“This is why I love you the most.” Ginny smiled._

_Ron raised his left eyebrow and smirked. He then proceeded to kiss her forehead and hugged her again. War really changed a person, Ginny thought. Ron was never one who’d hug his little sister in the open for everyone to see. “I’m so happy for you.”_

 

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night yearning for a glass of water. Her heartbeat was racing a notch faster than normal, and there was a sickening feeling tugging at her navel, almost giving her cramps. Her throat felt dry and she was perspiring. The room was too dark for her liking and her head felt a tad bit dizzy. 

 

She wasn’t sick, she knew this. This was something else. She had felt this way before; in fact, every waking hour during the second war, she walked with this same sensation always following her like a shadow. 

 

Did something happen to Harry or Ginny? 

 

She shook her head; that couldn’t be it. She’d get an owl by then if that were the case. She wondered if she’d had a nightmare…

 

Blinking the remains of her sleep away, Hermione got out of bed and reached out for her wand on the side table. She muttered _Lumos_ under her breath and walked out of the room as quietly as possible. Perhaps getting a glass of drink wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

 

There was complete silence throughout the Burrow, and she knew she should be glad that Mr. Weasley hadn’t had a single episode so far (she’d know if he had, his thrashing could wake up the entire Burrow), yet that nauseating feeling still tugged at her heart. 

 

She muttered a lighting spell over the kitchen before settling down with a glass of water. She took a big gulp at once, as if the worry that was encompassing her entire being would be washed away by it. 

 

She sighed inwardly, wishing there was a way to find out if Harry and Ginny were okay. She was quite certain now that something had happened to them. 

 

And then it hit her. 

 

“Of course!” Not waiting another second, she barged out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Mrs. Weasley’s clock! Oh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?” 

 

The old clock stood proud in the living room, like a family heirloom. Hermione ran her eyes over the names at once. 

 

Arthur – Home

Bill, Fleur, René – Home 

Charlie – Away

Fred – Travelling 

George – Travelling

Ron – Mortal Peril

Ginny – At Work

Harry – At Work

Hermione – Home

 

Hermione literally let out a huge sigh of relief, seeing that both Harry and Ginny weren’t in any kind of danger. Of course that only lasted a mere second before her brain finally digested the information fully. 

 

_Mortal Peril?_

“That can’t be.” Hermione frowned. “He’s here with me!” 

 

_Well, technically he’s in his room, alone. And he was looking rather pale earlier. And you still feel ill, you know something’s wrong._

“Oh Merlin, please let him be alright!” 

 

She ran up the stairs two steps at a time. It stung her heart when it creaked on the sixth step, but she didn’t slow down. 

 

Logic would have told Hermione that she could have Apparated straight to Ron’s room, but Hermione was never known as someone who could reason with logic when she started to panic. It was just like back in first year when she needed Ron to remind her she was a witch! 

 

She didn’t even pause at the door, didn’t care if she was making too much noise; she wouldn’t be satisfied until she could see his face. 

 

His eyes were closed, but his face was set to a frown. He looked as white as a ghost, his lips almost blue, his shirt drenched in cold sweat and his damped hair matted on his forehead. He was almost wheezing in his sleep and he seemed to be trembling. 

 

“Ron!” Hermione reached for him, shaking his shoulders gently. The heat radiating from his body alarmed her at once. “Oh Merlin, Ron, what’s wrong with you?” 

 

-

 

_It was no secret that Ron often let emotions rule his actions. Anyone who had heard of his ‘eat slugs, Malfoy!’ rage would agree to this. But given the luxury of time, Ron would naturally brush the anger and frustration aside, pushing them to the back of his mind while he started planning. Ron loved to plan. He hated to plunge his head into something new without any clue what he was going to do when he got there. That would be Harry._

_Not many people knew that Ron loved planning. You would never see him walking around with an organizer in his hands. And his habit of leaving everything homework-related to the very last minute didn’t really scream ‘good planner’. Well-organized was Hermione’s forte anyway. She set out a goal and made sure she followed it through._

_Ron mapped out his plans in his head. He saw a goal and had at least ten ways planned to get about doing it. He made sure there were no loopholes in any of the links and saw them played out in his head before he even began. However, on the outside, you’d never guess that Ron had a plan brewing. He didn’t feel the need to tell anyone what he was thinking about unless he deemed it fit to do so._

_He always laughed when people called him a good strategist yet claimed he was never good at planning. Ron always thought that planning and strategizing come together._

_Therefore, suffice it to say, Ron was a balance for both Harry and Hermione. The same way that Harry was a balance for both him and Hermione. And that Hermione was a balance for both him and Harry. That was why the three of them worked so well together._

_And so on a Sunday afternoon, while everyone was busy volunteering to do something, he stayed in his room, like the invalid that people seemed to think of him these days, and planned ways to push Hermione out of his life. And because he loved her more than life itself, he had to make sure that it worked._

_He started his plan the next day, early morning when he knew he’d find her already up and busy in the kitchen. She had self-designated herself as the official cook in the house, and that was saying a lot because Hermione might be good a lot of things, but cooking wasn’t one of them._

_When he found her that morning, she had burnt a piece of toast, and since food was scarce in the first place, she tried to scrape off the burnt bits and salvage the rest._

_He would offer to help – like cutting the potatoes – and they talked about news they had read in_ the Quibbler _and_ the Daily Prophet _. Ron would only talk about specific subjects though, and they all concerned the welfare of homeless children or the aged and wizards and witches who were badly injured in the war. He asked her opinion on what she thought could be done for them._

_Ron had never seen Hermione more alive than when she started talking about them (except for S.P.E.W). Her eyes would water in sympathy and then fire up with all the ideas she had come up with to assist them. He found them all fascinating and with all the enthusiasm oozing out from her, Ron was even more convinced that he was doing the right thing._

_He supported her ideas and told her she should do something about it, that the Ministry could do with someone like her helping out the less fortunate._

_“Because the Ministry is so bent on fighting leftover Death Eaters, they’re forgetting about these people unless someone speaks up for them. You can be that someone, Hermione; in fact, I believe you’re the perfect person for the job,” he had said._

_“I can’t just barge in there and tell them of my plans, can I?”_

_“No, you need a plan.”_

_“Will you help me?”_

_“Of course! I think you should write a proposal and have Harry sign it. You know the Ministry pretty much kisses his arse these days.”_

_“Ron!”_

_“It’s true!”_

_“I won’t use Harry just to-”_

_“Do you want to help these kids or not?”_

_“I do, but-”_

_“Harry will sign it in a heartbeat, trust me. You’re not using him at all.”_

_Over the next few days, it was all that Hermione could think of. Ron even turned Percy’s room into a study room for her to do her researches. He woke up early in the morning, taking over duties of preparing breakfast and making sure she didn’t skip on her lunch. He wouldn’t see her until late in the afternoon, when she came down for dinner. She would let him read what she had drafted and offered his opinion on it._

_When she was ready, it was Fred and George who accompanied her to the Ministry. Ron couldn’t have gone with her if he wanted to, not in his condition. He spent the day taking care of his dad, who had yet to regain all his memories._

_When Mr. Weasley was fast asleep (which was often), Ron would sit on the rocking chair next to his parents’ bed and pretend that his mum was out there, busy as always, making sure that the Burrow was taken care of. He was confident that the Ministry would take up the offer Hermione proposed and with that came the next step in his plan._

_When the owl came to officially accept her offer and requested that she started working in the new department and recruiting volunteers to work with her, Ron suggested that she buy a house in Hogsmeade._

_“What’s wrong with living here?”_

_“Well, Bill and Fleur are going back to France for a while, and then they’ll come back and buy a house. Charlie’s leaving in two days. The twins’ old apartment miraculously survived the battle. Harry is covered by the Ministry so he’s getting an apartment. I heard all Aurors are getting one, sort of a safe house to protect them. That leaves you and me and my dad. And it’s not proper since we’re not…you know…”_

_“I understand.”_

_“Besides, didn’t you say in that proposal that the best site to start this whole rebuilding project would be in Hogsmeade? If you stay there, you’d be closer to the people, you get to understand them more and all that stuff. And it’s easier to get to the Ministry from there. And it’s more accessible to Diagon Alley; you can visit your parents more frequently.”_

_She ate his every word and agreed to move._

_The day Hermione moved out, Ron was confined to his bed with high fever. He also requested that no one was to disturb him. He hated being treated like a child who couldn’t do anything on his own. His back was killing him and the wound seemed to bleed twice as much lately, and he knew if he told even a soul, everyone would be on his case. And even though he was in so much pain, nothing hurt him more than knowing that Hermione had left. He assumed it was easier to let her go without saying goodbye. He knew then he’d assumed wrong._

_She wrote him a letter everyday, asking about his well being and telling him about her first day at work. She told him about her plans in reuniting lost children to their estranged parents and setting up a home for the orphans and promoting and encouraging adoption among Wizarding families._

_For every three letters she sent him, he would reply once. And he didn’t write much about what was going on in his life. Gradually, he would reply once every five letters she sent him. Even in her busiest days, Hermione never failed to write to him but Ron was determined to see through his plan. So one day, he stopped replying altogether._

_His plan was working; Hermione was soon too busy to write and he never picked up a quill to write and ask about her. He would decline offers when his friends invited him for a night out on the weekend because he knew Hermione would be there._

_And because he didn’t need any reminders of how everyone he knew was moving on with their lives with jobs and places of their own, with plans of starting a family with that girl they met in some convention, when he still woke up every morning drenched in his own sweat over a nightmare he couldn’t even remember and having to go another day with the whispers of his mother’s laughter in every nook and corner of the Burrow haunting him._

_Would they want to hear about his struggles trying to calm his dad down when he had one of his fits and of late afternoons when he would sit down with him and feed him and tell him stories of their family in hope that he’d wake from his catatonic state and say, ‘I remember that, son!’ and smile?_

_Or perhaps he should tell them of his struggle having to adjust living with this bleeding curse? Would they still want to hang around with him if he told them he couldn’t enjoy the taste of Firewhisky or spicy food because it gave him cramps and sleepless nights?_

_Then one day, almost a year after Hermione moved out of the Burrow and when his dad finally started talking and recognizing people, Ron decided to take his dad for walks in Hogsmeade. Ron hated to mingle with crowds because on a busy street, you get shoved and pushed, and for someone in his condition, it could mean days stuck in his bed being sick. But he did it anyway, because it would be healthy for his dad._

_They were having ice cream, because Dad said he missed the taste of it, when he saw Hermione coming out of a store with a man. Ron wasn’t familiar with him but enough to know that he was slightly older than he was, probably about Percy’s age if he was still alive._

_The man opened the door for her and offered a sweet to the young boy who was standing next to whom Ron assumed was the young boy’s father by the door and ruffled his hair. They bade them goodbye and he even let Hermione lead the way and offered to carry the extra files she was carrying. It was clear to see that whoever that man was that Hermione was with, he was a gentleman in every sense of the word._

_Plus, he was good looking. Brown hair like Hermione’s, tall and built like a Quidditch player._

_To say that it didn’t hurt him was a plain outright lie. It hurt so deep he thought he was going to pass out right there at the ice cream parlour. But he chose to smile, because his plan was working very well. This man could very well be the answer._

_Of course, Hermione had to turn up at the Burrow the very next day._

_She said she came to see how Mr. Weasley was doing. His dad was very happy to see her. Ron left them alone in the living room shortly after, without even telling her how good it was to see her again. He went out to the backyard, tending to the garden. Perhaps it was what he said or the tone of his voice; whatever it was, it must have upset her, because she didn’t come out to talk to him._

_It was his latest project – the garden. He figured he should start to try and grow something; it would definitely help to lessen their financial burden._

_Ron started loosening the soil, toiling under the hot sun the entire day. He dug weeds and wild plants that were beginning to grow and started adding magical fertilizers in the soil, blending them well. In his head, Ron was reassessing his plans, working out ways to patch this one broken link._

_Hermione shouldn’t be there._

_He didn’t think he could start from scratch should this plan fell apart. He didn’t think he could handle the heartbreak the second time around. But oh how beautiful she had looked when she appeared at the front door earlier that day. Ron would have pulled her in for a hug if he hadn’t remembered his mission._

_She couldn’t be here, not with him. Not after he had convinced Bill and Fleur that they should start a life of their own and move out of the Burrow. Not after he had convinced Charlie that he should continue doing what he did best and not worry about him and their dad. Not after he had convinced the twins that living with them while working undercover for the Ministry would jeopardize the safety of their dad. Not after he had supported his baby sister’s decision to be an Auror and then worried for her safety all the time._

_He felt dizzy all of a sudden. He was tired from the physical torture he was exerting himself to and the mental torture going on in his head. He was about ready to give up._

_“Oh great.”_

_He was bleeding. He had forgotten to renew the spells and bandage that was supposed to be done three hours ago._

_Making sure the stained shirt was hidden from view, he rushed through the kitchen where unfortunately both his dad and Hermione were having their tea, passed them and ran up the stairs to his room. How he even managed to get in there in time would stay a mystery to him._

_He locked the door and cast the Muffliato spell in the room and set about to change this dressing._

_It didn’t surprise him when she knocked on his door._

_“Ron?”_

_He couldn’t bear to stand any longer, not when his back felt like it was on fire. With trembling hands, he muttered a cleaning charm over himself before collapsing on his bed and quickly cut out the bandage._

_“Ron, can I come in?”_

_He groaned loudly as he undid the binding spell and started to bleed. Hermione couldn’t hear him, he kept telling himself. It was okay._

_“Ron, I know you’re bleeding, there were stains on the steps…”_

_Ron drowned her voice out by his own screams, willing for the salves to quickly heat up in his hand. He didn’t think he could knead it any second longer._

_“Please, let me help you?”_

_The salve was hot enough now, and without giving himself a chance to dwell on what he was going to do next, he slapped the offending object to the wound. It sizzled immediately upon contact._

_He knew she couldn’t hear him, but Ron still gritted his teeth and forced himself not to cry._

_“Ron, why are you doing this to me? Don’t you miss me? It’s been almost a year since I heard from you. What changed? I… Ron… don’t you love me anymore?”_

_She was crying right outside his door, and every part of him wanted him to open that door and tell her how much he missed her. How much he loved her._

_But he remembered. He loved her, and because of that, he had to do this._

_“Please open the door Ron, let me in, let me help you.”_

_That was the Hermione he knew. She could easily Alohamora her way in, but even in times like this, she had respected his privacy._

_As the pain subsided, Ron used what was left of his energy to bandage the wound. He lay in bed in a foetal position, listening to Hermione’s never ending pleas right outside his room._

_He didn’t let her help him that day, but for the first time since he had cradled his dead mother in his arms, Ron allowed himself to break down and cried along with Hermione. The door was the only thing that separated both of them._

“Ron, please, wake up!” 

 

Ron didn’t even flinch. The only sound in the room other than Hermione’s pleas was the wheezing of his breath. 

 

“Ron, don’t do this to me! I know you can hear me, please, open your eyes!” 

 

His eyes remained closed, didn’t as much as flutter for her. And as if to add insult to injury, she noticed his nose was beginning to bleed. 

 

Hermione was lost. She couldn’t Apparate and leave him there alone, yet he needed help. 

 

“Think Hermione, think! What do you do to wake some-” She didn’t even finish her sentence when the idea struck her. “Of course!” Reaching out for her wand, she waved it over Ron’s body and muttered, _Ennervate_. 

 

She waited in anticipation, her brain already thinking of other alternatives she could try out should this one failed. 

 

Ron’s eyes didn’t flutter but went immediately wide open as he gasped for air painfully, his hand reached out for hers. Hermione grabbed for it and her vision blurred from her own tears. She knew she needed to make him stay awake as long as possible while she figured out the next step to get him to St. Mungo’s. 

 

“Ron… Oh Godric… you’re very sick, I need to bring you to St. Mungo’s! Please stay awake for me okay? You can’t go back to sleep Ron, do you hear me?” she said through her tears. 

 

She thought she saw Ron nodded slightly before his lips parted. She moved closer still, trying to make out what he was saying. She felt her tear drop on his cheek as she lowered herself and she felt his hot breath hitting hers. It unnerved her for a second, realising how high his temperature must have been. 

 

And then she heard his voice, barely a whisper in her ears. “Help me.” 

 

Oh how she had waited for this moment to come. If only it hadn’t have to come to this for her to hear it. Her vision blurred for a moment as tears started to well up in her eyes. He couldn’t die now, not when he was finally _here._

“Don’t you dare leave me now Ron,” Hermione choked, grabbing on to his hand as if her very existence depended on it. “I beg you.” 

 

\--

 

 

 


End file.
